Of Umbrellas and Brothers
by baao
Summary: After a drunken reunion leaves Virgil in hospital, the Tracy family think the worse thing that can happen that day is Gordon finding out, but after a rescue to a nuclear power station leaves the boys with more questions than answers, the family realise that this day might be the worst day in their lives.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my first fanfiction ever, so I thought I'd start with my favourites: the Thunderbirds. This one's for my bestie StarKid McFly and she loves the boys as much as I do so I hope she appreciates this (though she's already read it). I actually have a load of chapters already written so uploads will be pretty regular for awhile. I hope you guys enjoy!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 1:**

"What do you mean you're stuck in New York?"

"Let's just say that Mary Poppins, as well as the inventor of umbrellas, will be receiving a very strongly worded letter regarding false advertising." came the reply from a grumpy-sounding Virgil Tracy as he sat in a busy ward in New York's central hospital. He was in a private room, waiting to be discharged, and so was passing the time by putting a call through to his eldest brother on his watch.

"The night out with your college friends went well, then?" asked Scott, not even trying to hide his sniggers at Virgil's description of events.

"Well, I think it was but one thing led to another and now I'm sort of stuck in hospital with a sprained wrist and twisted knee, so it would be really fantastic, Scotty, if perhaps you could come get me without letting anyone else back home knowing what happened?" Virgil replied, with a pleading note in his voice and his best wounded little brother face on. If this incident got out back on the island, Gordon would never let him live it down; he was still mentioning at every possible moment that last time they were on the mainland, John was found lying outside the bar they had been visiting bellowing 'Vogue' by Madonna at pedestrians after insisting he was excellent at holding his drink and had promptly downed 6 Appletinis and had gotten thrown out after trying to perform a pirouette on top of the bar.

Virgil could practically hear Scott thinking through the pros and cons of collecting his brother from New York without letting it slip that he had had another drunken misadventure to any of their brothers.

"If you don't come get me Scott, I'll tell Gordon it was you who ate all his cheesepuffs after Dad confiscated them, plus I'll tell Dad what really happened when you and John "accidentally" ended up on the wrong side of the Mexico-American border when you were actually meant to be attending a function in Santa Fe." threatened Virgil in a sing-song voice, after he realised that Scott was probably more likely to tell Gordon and laugh at Virgil with him.

Scott scowled at Virgil through the wrist-watch, and instantly regretted calling Virgil to come rescue them after a 'quick drinks session' with John shortly before an inescapable, long, dull function with his father's New Mexico business partners which ultimately ended up with he and his immediate younger brother being on the wrong side of the border with no money, yet a large collection of sombreros - something which neither Scott nor John could fully explain. Jeff had merely been told that their transport had been delayed and they had been unable to attend the function, and neither brother wanted to know what would happen if their father found out exactly what had happened.

"Fine," said Scott, with a slightly exasperated tone "I'll leave in about half-an-hour and no, I won't tell Gordon. I'll say your flight's been cancelled - though no doubt he'll work out that something ridiculous has happened to you again. I don't know how he knows everything - he's a bigger gossip than John."

"John gossips, Gordon spies; that's how he knows everything. John can only gossip as much as he does because Gordon can just, slightly unnervingly, find out anything and everything and then tells John. No wonder John never dobs Gordon in - he's his main source of information on the island!"

"I suppose," replied Scott with a laugh "I better go tell Dad though, and get cleared for takeoff. I'll see you in a few hours, Short-stuff."

Virgil pouted at the now blank screen on his wrist-watch, reproachful at being referred to as 'short'. His face instantly cleared however, when he realised what he'd just managed to do: get a lift home as well as keeping his latest mishap under wraps from his bigmouth brothers. Virgil relaxed on his bed with a satisfied grin on his face; the ending to his potentially disastrous meet-up with old friends had ended very successfully, in his opinion; what on earth could go wrong today when he had this much luck on his side?

 **Bad? Good? Let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I was so overwhelmed by the response to the first chapter of this story so here's the second! I will add that the chapters will start getting longer soon. Hope you all enjoy!**

 **baao xo**

 **(also forgot to add a disclaimer so here it is: I don't own Thunderbirds in any way, even if I wish I did)**

 **Chapter 2:**

Scott couldn't help but smirk at his younger brother's misfortune as he prepared to head down to the silos for Tracy One. How Virgil constantly managed to find himself in the most bizarre situations almost every time he was Stateside never ceased to amaze Scott.

Still trying to figure out how they could hide this from the more mischievous Tracy son, Scott began to make his way down to the silos. He had barely descended the stairs when the emergency klaxon went off, summoning all remaining members of International Rescue to the lounge for briefing.

By the time Scott arrived, both John and Gordon plus their father were already in place, waiting to listen to the transmission from Alan, up in Thunderbird Five.

"I got an emergency call from an unidentified caller about a nuclear power station having a meltdown. It's a few miles north of St. Paul, Minnesota; it's pretty isolated according to the satellite reading." reported Alan from above the Earth's atmosphere.

"Any casualties?" asked Jeff, pacing.

"None that I've been notified of," replied Alan. He checked his monitors for any signs of life in the surrounding area before continuing: "there are heat signals in and around the power station, though, so Thunderbird Two is going to be necessary. I've lost the caller though, and for some reason I can't trace their signal again so hopefully there'll be someone around you can liaise with before you enter the building."

"What do you mean you've lost the caller?" put in John.

Alan shrugged, "I'm not too sure; they seem to have hung up on me, but I just can't find their signal anywhere. There's definitely people in the station, plus there are a few people scattered in the woods surrounding it, but I can't get a lock on anyone."

"Bit unusual, can you tell how many people there are, Alan?" asked John again.

"Nope - I've just got clusters of heat signals coming up on the screens, but people keep disappearing randomly, which is odd considering I haven't been told of any fatalities or otherwise. I also can't find a reason as to why the power station's suffering a meltdown - whilst it's old; the health and safety check on the plant last year said that everything was working perfectly. It's just all a bit weird..."Alan's voice trailed off as he carried on looking into the station, so Jeff took as his chance to send his boys off to the meltdown site.

"Right, Scott, you head off now and set up mobile control - you know what to do."

Scott nodded and got into position to go to his 'bird. Once he had slid out of view, Jeff turned to his second and fourth born sons.

"It looks like you're both going to be needed on this one, boys. Gordon, you pilot Thunderbird Two, then stand down once you're at the site and at least try and help John with shutting down the plant."

"Dad, I am positively offended by the thought that I wouldn't help John with shutting down the station - I am an absolute pro when it comes to technology and whatnot." replied Gordon, with a look of false horror on his face at the apparent audacity of his father's comment.

"Gordon, I swear to God if you so much as touch anything technological once we're off the 'bird, I will personally throw you into the reactor core." threatened John, "A nuclear power station is not like Virgil's new laptop; smashing it against the wall of number four's silo will not fix it, nor will it stop it from emitting the sound of a wailing kettle."

"John! That was like two times!" cried Gordon as he followed John to their 'bird. "How did you even know about that anyway - Alan swore he told no-one!"

Jeff couldn't help but laugh at his sons' antics as they headed off to yet another rescue, another life-or-death situation. He headed back to his seat in front of the monitor connecting him to Alan, chuckling at the cry of: "Oh my god, ALAN!" from his fourth born. He suddenly sat bolt upright, Gordon's whining about Virgil's laptop reminding him that he'd forgotten to tell his middle son the change of plan. Quickly connecting himself to Virgil's watch, he sat and waited for a connection.

"What's up, dad?" came the fast reply - Virgil was clearly bored in the hospital whilst waiting to be discharged. His slightly put-out face on the screen only reinforced his belief that his son was already getting annoyed with all the waiting around.

"Are you nearly ready to be discharged, Virgil?" asked Jeff firstly, having had Scott secretly disclose as to why he would have had to fly to New York to pick up a hung-over younger brother.

"I think so - but they told me that like two hours ago so I'm not too sure. Why?"

"There's been a slight change of plan," replied Jeff, somewhat apprehensively.

"How so?"

"Your brothers have been called for a rescue in Minnesota, so Scott can't come and pick you up. Sorry, but you're going to have to hang around New York for at least a few more hours. Discharge yourself, and then book a hotel. Alan seems to think this rescue's a little... odd, so it might not be until tomorrow you can get back to the island."

Virgil sighed, but nodded all the same.

"Okay, okay - but tell Scotty he still owes me!" replied Virgil with a grin before signing off from his father with a quick goodbye.

Jeff rolled his eyes before relaxing back in his chair; he never understood why his sons always felt the need to have one up against one another but he'd found over the years that it was just easier to ignore it all. He felt, occasionally, that maybe he should've stopped at one child as he heard, via Alan's video feed, Gordon and John already beginning to argue over who was going to push who into the radioactive core of the power station. Looking to Alan, Jeff frowned at the furrowed brow of his youngest son; Alan definitely felt that the situation up north was more than unusual, but now Jeff could only pray that three of his sons would be careful.

 **Love? Hate? Lemme know!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, hello! So chapter 3 is up a day early this week as I've got an absolutely mad week coming up with uni but I hope you enjoy it and thanks again for all the amazing reviews - I love it!**

 **baao xo**

 **Disclaimer: still don't own Thunderbirds, still wish I did...**

 **Chapter 3:**

"What's your ETA, Gords?" asked Scott as his landed his 'bird expertly into the available clearing that Alan had identified for them.

"Approximately 30 minutes now; it would've been less if John stopped weighing down Two with all the junk he eats when he's in Five."

Laughing at John's cry of outrage, Scott finished his post-flight checks and left the plane to set up mobile control. The plant seemed to have been built in a large clearing, next to a lazily flowing river. There was a forest surrounding the eerie-looking plant which was still covered in a thin layer of snow. Scott shivered - the only downside of living on a private, tropical island for most of the year was that he frequently forgot how cold it could be in the rest of the world, and Minnesota definitely wasn't one of the warmer states. Zipping his uniform up a little higher, he walked a few yards away from Thunderbird One in order to set up mobile control in a slightly more sheltered spot in the clearing which was a short distance from the actual plant. Turning away from mobile control, Scott looked around the area for any signs of life. He frowned and checked in with Alan to see where the people were - they needed to be far away from a nuclear meltdown.

"Come in, Five."

"Reading you, Scott. How is it down there?" responded Alan efficiently.

"Empty. Are you sure there's anyone around? Or even a nuclear meltdown? Mobile control is giving me a reading of low radioactivity levels - nowhere near enough for a meltdown." said Scott, frowning as he looked at the readings on the screen in front of him.

"There are definitely heat signals from people around, though I don't know why they'd be hiding. I can't pinpoint their position exactly, but I think they might still be in the station? I'm getting readings for a concerning amount of radioactivity, but you're right, there's nowhere near enough for this to be classified as a meltdown."

"Maybe the caller just panicked," murmured Scott in reply, as he continued to study the readings coming from mobile control.

"Wait for Gordon and John - their ETA's only a few minutes now - then go in with them maybe? Perhaps John can work out what's going on from the control room." suggested Alan, just as confused as his older brother.

Scott was about to reply when he heard the unmistakable rumble of Thunderbird Two's engines. He turned to watch Gordon land, and quickly signed off with Alan, promising to contact him with any new information before going to greet his brothers.

"How's it looking, Sasquatch?" called Gordon from where he was descending from the huge machine with John. Scott rolled his eyes at the unflattering nickname that Gordon had recently come up with him as retaliation for everyone's referral of him as 'ginger', but he nevertheless brought his two younger brothers up to speed with what he and Alan had discussed briefly before their arrival.

"Seems pretty bizarre to me," responded John, thoughtfully, "what do you think we should do? Wait around for any signs of life? Or head in and pray to God there isn't actually a nuclear meltdown?"

"Let's go in - the reports from both mobile control and Alan say it's safe. We'll get to the control room and keep our eyes peeled for anyone around and see what's going on." instructed the Field Commander, to which both John and Gordon nodded in agreement, though John's was slightly less enthusiastic - his avoidance of a boisterous, and more often than not, dangerous, younger Gordon meant that he was less prepared than Scott to deal with the unexpected, whereas Gordon bounded ahead of them towards the power plant, looking uncannily like an overgrown toddler as he raced towards their next challenge. John, of course, felt slightly responsible for Gordon's excitement; allowing Gordon to eat an entire tube of solely blue smarties just to shut him up from his various theories as to why Virgil was currently stuck in New York (each theory getting more and more ridiculous) was potentially a mistake, though this was something John would never admit to Scott. Denial was the best plan, decided John as they trudged through the thickening snow towards the entrance; Scott would never forgive him if Gordon was bouncing off the walls in the control room because he'd allowed their excitable younger brother to eat far too many e-numbers again.

The three brothers slowed down slightly as they approached the looming entrance to the now vaguely sinister power station, observing the surrounding area carefully. Scott closed the distance between them and huge door first, placing his palm against the towering piece of metal. Looking up and glancing at the seemingly inactive security camera to their right, Scott put all his weight against the door, slowly opening it with an eerie creak which split through the silence surrounding them.

"Well, shit." said Gordon, breaking the silence that had fallen over the brothers as they'd entered the desolate building.

"Well, shit indeed..." muttered Scott, before taking the first few steps forward into the pressing darkness of the Minnesotan power station.

 **Let me know what you thought!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Bit of a short chapter this time but it is two days early so I hope that makes up for it! Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews - they make my day!**

 **baao xo**

 **Disclaimer: nope, still don't own Thunderbirds**

 **Chapter 4:**

Virgil was sulking. He had discharged himself as quickly as he could from the hospital (which admittedly taken another half-an-hour) and was now walking the busy streets of New York, trying to find something to pass the time until he could check into a hotel. Checking his watch, he realised with a groan it was only half past 2 in the afternoon. Hotel check-ins weren't until at least 4 o'clock, so he couldn't even go sleep off his slight hangover.

"At least," Virgil thought to himself as he headed towards a nearby coffee shop overlooking Times Square, "the hangover isn't as bad as it could've been."

Ordering a coffee and settling down on one of the more comfortable and isolated armchairs by a window which overlooked the hustle and bustle of the city, he put in a call to his father to see what news there was about the current IR rescue.

"Virgil! Finally been discharged?" greeted his father, his smile slightly forced.

"Yeah, about half an hour ago." replied Virgil, frowning at Jeff "What's up? How's the... um..." Virgil quickly glanced around him to make sure he couldn't be overheard, "...mission?"

"Under control as far as I'm aware," said Jeff, running his hand through his hair distractedly "something's not right, though."

Virgil listened as his father briefly ran through the details of the rescue, then leant back in his chair, stretching his aching leg out in front of him with a wince.

"Enough of that though son, how are you feeling?" asked Jeff, taking his mind of the mysterious power station for a moment to focus on the son at hand.

"Just a few bruises really - my pride is wounded more than anything else." responded Virgil, a light-hearted tone to his voice.

"That's to be expected but I mean really Virgil, how is it that every time you go on a night out you end up in hospital, or worse?"

"What do you mean 'worse'?" demanded Virgil, a frown making its way only his usually relaxed features.

Jeff laughed before answering: "I haven't forgotten about the Mount Rushmore incident yet Virgil. The amount of paperwork I had to go through to get you off the hook then was outrageous."

"George Washington needed a moustache - I will not apologise for art." replied the middle-Tracy adamantly, but with the corners of his mouth turning up slightly on remembering the fiasco.

"Maybe you should consider apologising for damage to government property?" suggested Jeff, with a shrug that was more characteristic of his sons than he.

Virgil rolled his eyes at his father, but did not offer further comment.

"Anyway," supplied the elder of the two, "I need to get back to Alan. Something's really worrying him about this mission; I can't place what or why, though. Will you be okay there for another night?"

"Yeah, yeah dad, I'll be fine. Just keep me updated?"

"Sure thing, son. Why don't you look into this power station for us? Alan's got his hands full with the bizarre 'disappearing people', so if you could check out any useful information about the station, that would be great."

"Yeah, sounds good to me, and it'll kill the time. I'll be sure to check in with the others if I find anything. You should get back to Alan though Dad, before he accidentally breaks something from stress - you know how he gets." replied Virgil.

His father laughed in agreement before responding with a quick "F.A.B." and signing off, and Virgil was left alone in the coffee shop with just his thoughts for company. Considering his father's words about the unusualness of the current mission International Rescue were responding to, Virgil settled down to pass the time by researching the area. If he couldn't actually be physically on a rescue, there was no reason why he shouldn't help in other aspects. Taking a sip of his coffee, the middle Tracy settled down to work.

 **Apologies again for the length but the next chapter is longer!**


	5. Chapter 5

**So here's chapter 5! I hope you all enjoy this chapter - it's a little longer than before, thankfully!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 5:**

Footsteps echoing through the corridors of the eerily empty power station cracked through the still air like whip. The station appeared to have been deserted; no one was occupying any of the workstations, nor was there anyone in the corridors. There weren't even any alarms blaring to alert anyone of the so-called meltdown. What was more concerning was the state of the building. Whilst Alan had reported that the last health and safety inspection stated that the area was safe and in good condition, within that time things had certainly changed. Whether it had been from the 'meltdown' or before, it was safe to say that the building was in a dire need of repair. Rubble was strewn across the floor; the walls had cracked and collapsed leaving gaping holes in some places.

The three brothers crept through the building, desperately searching for the control room to finish the 'rescue' as fast as possible. An outstretched hand from the Field Commander stopped the other two members of International Rescue in their tracks, and their elder brother silently pointed down a corridor to their right which signposted the control room. Walking down the corridor as fast as their dared, they approached the surprisingly intact metal door to the control room. Gordon strode up to the door and tried to push it open. It remained firmly closed and he turned to his brothers:

"Locked," he stated.

"Congratulations Einstein," replied John with a roll of his eyes and his voice dripping with sarcasm "we're so lucky to have you and your breathtaking intelligence here with us today."

Gordon scowled, suddenly baring a striking resemblance to his younger self on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum.

"How do you suggest we get in, then?" Gordon shot back to his older brother.

"The keypad, obviously?" said John, gesturing to the right hand side of the door. He approached it cautiously, examining it carefully. Within minutes he had managed to override the system and the door slid open silently.

Scott and Gordon stared at him in a mixture of awe and amazement and John rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, how would you two have gotten in without me?"

"By breaking the door down?" replied Scott with a shrug, gesturing the now open doorway to his younger brothers.

"All brawn and no brain..." muttered John absently and he entered the control room, not noticing the scowls coming from Scott and Gordon. Gordon stomped through the doorway after, whispering grumpily which sounded along the lines of: "Honestly, so rude... as if we didn't have ears... at least I actually have eyebrows so I don't resemble a startled owl ninety percent of the time..."

Scott shook his head tiredly before following the other two into the room. John had already sat down in front of the computers, and was starting to clear the error messages flashing on the screens. Gordon was skulking at the back, no doubt sulking after John's arguably harsh comments. Scott clamped a hand down on the red-head's shoulder before leaning against a computer-free wall and watched his immediate younger brother work.

After what felt like hours, John finally relaxed back in seat, indicating that the systems were clear once more.

"All done?" asked Scott stepping forward, closely followed by Gordon.

"Yeah, just got to see what the problem is at the reactor core. I'm not sure why a meltdown was reported but-"

"Shut up, John." interrupted Gordon, "Is there anything Scott or I can do because I am so bored already."

John sighed, but indicated the screens to his right: "See what you can find on the security cameras then, Gords; any clues as to where everyone is and why everyone seems to have disappeared."

Gordon nodded and settled down in front of the computer and began running through the security feed whilst Scott decided it was probably a good time to check in with Virgil back in New York.

"How's the power station, Sasquatch?" asked Virgil as the communication line crackled into life.

Scott glared darkly at his grinning sibling through the small screen on his watch, unhappy over the success of Gordon's nickname and ignoring the snort of laughter from said-sibling, but replied all the same: "Creepy, dark, dangerous - what more could we ask for? We're in the control room now; Johnny's working his magic on the computers and Gordon's being almost helpful."

Virgil laughed, "So nothing new then?"

"Not even slightly. How's New York treating you?"

"Wonderfully - I've got coffee, I've got WiFi, and I've got a perfect people-watching spot," Virgil grinned before continuing: "but, what's more exciting is some information I've just found for you about the station."

"Why? What's happened?" queried Scott curiously.

"Well, from what I've read, the station was built a good fifteen or twenty years ago, and up until recently, was a perfectly working and busy power station. However, workers in the last couple of months have been reporting a feeling of unease in the building, as well as in the surrounding area. Nothing supernatural, don't worry, but there's been sightings of men walking through the woods who definitely aren't employed at the power station, nor are they employed in the nearby town. Loads of workers have been saying that they'd felt unsafe commuting to work as well as feeling unsafe whilst in the station. There's no evidence of a lack of safety here, though. Well, not until Alan received a distress call earlier today."

"Weird... well, there's definitely a lack of safety now - the station looks like it's been abandoned, as well as half-destroyed."

Virgil frowned, clearly thinking hard about the situation his brothers were now in.

"What are you thinking then, Scotty?" he finally asked.

"Why don't you check in with Al? See if he's found anything else? We'll shut everything down here and see if we can find anyone around - Alan's still saying there are heat signals floating around."

"F.A.B., I'll call Sprout now then let you know anything else." replied Virgil with a thoughtful nod. Scott's screen went blank as his younger brother closed the connection and he turned back to his two present brothers.

"Found anything?" he asked, stepping forward to stand directly behind both.

Whilst John shook his head, clearly still working, Gordon audibly swallowed.

"Maybe you should take a look at this," he said, pointing at one of the many screens.

Scott peered at the fuzzy image his younger brother was presenting him with, before stepping back with a gasp.

"Oh my god..."

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	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, so sorry this chapter's a little late - I've been so busy with midterm exams I totally forgot to upload! Anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 6:**

The Tracy's stared at the security image in horror, John recoiling slightly. Gordon swallowed again, seemingly wanting to say something but the words caught in his throat. Finally, after a number of agonising minutes, Scott spoke up:

"Well, that was certainly unexpected."

The image displayed a crumbling corridor; rubble blocked a couple of the doorways leading to the right and left of the hall. The ceiling looked like it had partially fallen in on itself and a light had broken, its bulb flashing eerily and sparks burst out of the breaking fuse and showered the floor. The dim remaining glow however illuminated the most horrifying part of the corridor: bodies of what can only be assumed as what was the present staff at the power station were littering the floor and propped against the wall. Blood strains crept along the walls, painting the grey concrete a rusty dark red.

"No wonder the heat signals kept disappearing," whispered John in horror as his eyes surveyed the image before them.

"Right," said Scott, entering Commander-mode "you two stay here - John, you shut this whole place down and make sure everything's safe and secure and contact Alan to get the police in. Gordon, keep surveying the security feed, see if you can find out what happened and call Dad and let him know what's going on."

"What are you going to do?" asked Gordon, turning to face his eldest brother with wide eyes.

"I'm going to go investigate, as well as heading over to the reactor to see if I can work out what the problem is, so stay on the line Johnny. I'll call Virgil too, let him know what's going on or he'll be pulling his hair out in worry."

"You can't go on your own!" cried Gordon, starting to get to his feet but a hand on his shoulder from Scott kept him down.

"Stop worrying Gords, I'll be fine. I'll call you if I need you, alright? Besides, John needs you more than I do - no offence, Johnny" replied Scott, glancing at his immediate younger brother who shook of his brother's comment about needing Gordon.

"People are **dead** down there Scott; we aren't sure who's done it, or if they're still down there!" insisted Gordon adamantly.

"I'll be fine, Fish, just call Dad and make sure the police are notified. Besides, you'll be able to follow me on the security feed, right? So just let me know if you see anything."

With that, Scott left the room leaving no room for further argument. Gordon's eyes followed Scott down the corridor on the screens, before looking to John with pleading eyes.

"Relax, Gords, this is Scott - he'll be absolutely fine. The faster we shut all this down and contact the police, the faster we can leave, right?" reassured John, softly.

Gordon glanced down and nodded before taking a deep breath.

"Alright, you contact Al; I'll get Dad, and get this over with - though I'm not looking forward to this conversation with Dad at all." replied Gordon, quickly pulling himself together to get on with the tasks at hand.

"Rather you than me," laughed John "though I'm probably going to have a hysterical Alan on my hands instead. For someone who can keep a totally clear head during car races, he sure loses it when it's anyone other than him involved in something dangerous."

"Like all teenage boys, Johnny, they think they're invincible." replied Gordon seriously.

John burst out laughing, "Honestly Gords, talking like that you'd think you were Dad's age!"

"Hey, I'm far more mature than Alan!" insisted Gordon.

"Oh yeah, of course, I forgot - though it wasn't Alan who tried to build a bridge out of furniture from their room to the kitchen and almost broke their leg in the process last week, if I remember rightly."

"The floor was made of **lava** , Johnny, obviously." responded Gordon, rolling his eyes as if it was completely normal of boys his age to refuse to touch the carpet because of "lava burns".

"Ah, obviously Gords, and that's what makes you so much more mature than our youngest sibling. And you'd never think you were invincible, would you? I mean, you were completely aware of the risks when trying to create your own set of stairs out of the rest of our bedside tables which were balancing very precariously on top of one another."

"One hundred percent," replied Gordon, laughing despite himself.

John grinned in response, but soon settled back down to shutting down all of the systems in the power station. Whilst he was finding it difficult to shut the image of the men lying lifeless in the corridor, he was grateful he had something to do to take his mind of it, and he certainly wasn't jealous of Gordon at this time who was having to look at the corridor every time his eyes glanced over that particular security feed.

The two brothers worked silently for the next half an hour, only talking to speak with their brother up on Thunderbird Five, or with their father back at base. Alan had confirmed that he'd contacted the local police department of what they had discovered at the power station and that they were en route, though Alan had also disclosed that they were miles from civilisation, and many of the roads were blocked by heavy snowfall, meaning that help might not arrive for hours. Promising Alan that they would be fine, the brothers continued to secure and shut down the area, keeping a close eye on their eldest brother who was fast approaching the corridor which closely resembled a scene from a horror film.

Gordon had been checking the security footage before deciding to check in with Scott on audio only - he didn't want to see that corridor any closer - as he finally reached the marred corridor.

"How's it all looking, Scotty?"

"Morbid, smells gross too." came the reply from the Field Commander as Gordon watched him step back from the bodies.

"Anyone left alive?"

"Nope, but clean-ish deaths I suppose. No trace of anyone being here to do it though, but I'll investigate further."

Just as Gordon was about to reply, the camera feed which showed Scott in the corridor suddenly turned black, as did a number of other ones. Gordon let out a yell in panic, looking for a way to get the footage back up.

"Scott! Scott, do you read me?" demanded the younger Tracy in panic.

Gordon heard his brother breathe in, as if to reply, on the other end of the line but rather than words coming out, a grunt and a thud answered him instead, and the line went dead.

"What? What is it?" demanded John, who had almost jumped out of his seat in fright as his sibling's yell had shattered the quiet murmur they'd been working in.

"I've lost cameras!" the younger of the two cried "I can't see Scott anymore, plus the line's gone dead!"

"What do you mean?"

"Look - the camera that was recording Scott has just gone blank, as has several others, including the room which holds the reactor! I was just talking to him as the cameras turned off, and his reply was just this grunt."

"Did you see anyone around? Anyone who was taking out the cameras?" asked John more urgently.

"Not a single person! Well, apart from the bodies that Scott was just about to reach, but that screen's gone blank too..." replied Gordon, sounding panicked.

John lifted his wrist and opened the communication to Scott's watch:

"Come in, Scott. Can you hear us, Scott?"

The only answer he got was static and the screen remained blank. He looked at Gordon, who shrugged, worry clear in his eyes. Swallowing, John changed the communication line to their space bound brother:

"Come in, Alan,"

"Reading you, John, how is it down there?" replied Alan, answering immediately.

"Can you get through to Scott for me? I can't get him to answer."

"F.A.B." replied Alan, and John waited as Alan busied himself with opening a line to their eldest brother. Frowning, Alan turned back to John.

"His watch is still on, but I can't get a reply from him. Can't you see him on the security cameras?"

"That's the problem, Sprout," replied John worriedly, "the cameras seem to have been turned off, or have broken; almost half of them have gone black and we've lost sight of Scott. What's more is that Gordon's transmission with him just ended abruptly - he sounds like he's in trouble."

Alan bit his lip, his brow furrowed as he exchanged looks with his immediate older brother who had slid into view.

"Okay... I'll call Dad and let him know then we'll work on getting the cameras back up and getting through to Scott. I'll call you back in 5." said Alan.

"F.A.B. Sprout, we'll let you know if there's any news." nodded John before the connection ended and he turned to Gordon.

"I should go look for him." said Gordon immediately.

"No way - I need you here with me in case the footage comes back. Wait until Alan calls back, and then we'll decide what to do. Try and get the cameras working again. I'm sure Scott'll be fine, he's probably just busy at the moment or he tripped over something... he might not have been concentrating on what he was doing."

Gordon nodded, but he couldn't shake the foreboding feeling that something awful had happened from the back of his mind. Turning back to the cameras, he began to work through override codes, praying that nothing had happened to their eldest brother.

 **Let me know what you thought - I love reading your reviews!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay so here's chapter 7! Hope you all enjoy and let me know what you thought in the reviews!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 7:**

Walking through the dingy corridors, Scott couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding creeping into his mind. He saw no signs of life as he continued to make his way to heart of the power station though he often felt the presence of someone, or something, watching him that most definitely wasn't Gordon perched behind the screens of the security cameras.

Picking his way through an almost completely destroyed corridor, Scott found himself thinking over what Virgil had told him through the comms; the men had also reported feelings of unease and a sense of being watched, though no evidence to prove it, which were feelings similar to what Scott was feeling at the present time. He had patched himself through to Virgil almost as soon as he'd left the control room, and Virgil had promised to look more into the strange feelings surrounding the Minnesotan station but not before making Scott promise to contact him if anything else unusual popped up.

Before Scott knew it, he'd reached the corridor which contained the bodies of the deceased workers. Bending down, he did a quick check to see if any of the staff were still alive, though unfortunately most seemed to have been killed with a bullet to the back of the skull. The only plus side was that their deaths would've been quick and painless, something Scott couldn't help but feel grateful for.

Standing back from the corpses, Scott did a rough count to see how many men were laid there, and the result was far smaller than what Scott would've expected. Whilst Virgil had suggested that many men had left their jobs once the feelings of uneasiness had increased around the station, it was still shocking to see how few remained. Something had seriously freaked the men out, and Scott was determined to find out what.

His watch suddenly flickered into life, and Gordon's voice cut through the silent air:

"How's it all looking, Scotty?"

"Morbid, smells gross too." replied Scott distractedly as he took a further step back from the workers.

"Anyone left alive?" questioned Gordon, who Scott noticed was on audio only which was surprising. After being with WASP, Scott would've assumed that his aquanaut of a brother was more used to seeing death.

"Nope, but clean-ish deaths I suppose. No trace of anyone being here to do it though, but I'll investigate further."

Suddenly, there was a sound of crumbling rock and rapid footsteps behind him. Before he could turn to see what was approaching from the corridor he had just come from, he felt a heavy weight slam into the side of his head and he let out a pained grunt as he crashed to the floor, clinging onto to consciousness for mere seconds, but just enough to see some black men's shoes step into his blurring vision. Before he could think any more of it, blackness clouded his mind and he succumbed to the dark void of unconsciousness.

* * *

Stress was not a feeling that Jeff Tracy was unaccustomed to - being in charge of International Rescue, the most secretive yet famous organisation in the world, as well as the owner of one of the largest companies in the world meant that Jeff was frequently found pacing his office with a coffee in hand and almost pulling his hair out because of the frustrating feeling that was stress. Probably the biggest causes for stress were the five sons that made up the Tracy family - even through school, the boys managed to make life difficult for Jeff. Not deliberately, but a lack of common sense often led to their father being called to their school and explaining to each one that blowing up the science lab in the process of creating a rocket to impress their eldest brother was not a good idea, nor was trying to get out of P.E. by explaining that dodge-ball was in no way helpful to the human race's survival, or for their good looks.

Intentional or not, the five Tracy sons often managed to cause their father to almost have a nervous breakdown on multiple occasions, and these just increased in number since the creation of International Rescue. This particular rescue had not had any events that were totally out of the ordinary for IR; a son would frequently go 'missing' on rescues, only to pop up again at the end. However, Jeff couldn't help but feel unsettled by his other sons' panic about the whereabouts of their eldest brother. Alan had just signed off another feed with him, expressing his worry about Scott as well as his concern for the remaining two brothers in the building. Virgil had been composed as usual, but he couldn't completely hide the worry in his eyes as he reported to his father what he had discovered in his research in New York City.

Sighing, Jeff ran a hand over his eyes. He couldn't wait for Scott to turn up again and for this rescue to be over. He was trying to convince himself that his eldest son would turn up again, explaining to his brothers that the signal had cut out or that he'd accidentally turned off the lights in the corridors, but there was something telling him that there was something far more sinister at play, and Jeff wasn't sure that he wanted to find out what.

 **Sorry for the short chapter there, it sort of repeated itself too but hopefully you'll enjoy the next chapter more!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, hello! Yet another chapter and I hope you're all still enjoying it. Bit of a filler chapter here, but I hope you like it nonetheless and we'll get back to the action soon!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 8:**

Out of all of the five Tracy sons, Gordon was definitely not the most patient. He had never understood how John and Virgil, and to some extent, their father, could sit and wait around instead of taking direct action. His complete inability to stay still was more than prominent now - he needed to be doing something that was more than just watching monitors. John's ability to remain calm and get on with the task at hand was astounding to Gordon, whilst he tapped his fingers on the desk, or occasionally stood up and paced in frustration in his lack of ability to do anything.

Contrary to Gordon's thoughts, John was as equally frustrated as his younger brother, but years of training up on Thunderbird Five had taught him to remain composed and focussed during events in which he couldn't physically participate. It was difficult to not do something when so close to the action, but John couldn't help but sympathise with his less-local brothers - Alan was just as used to being stuck thousands of miles away as John was when operating Five, but Virgil was rarely not involved in a rescue, and for him to be stuck in New York when all of this was happening must be killing him. Feeling a mixture of irritation and pity as Gordon leant back in his chair again rise in his chest, John turned to his younger brother:

"How are you holding up, kiddo?" he asked, sympathetically.

Gordon sighed, "Bored, frustrated, scared - what do you think?"

Ignoring the sharp tone in his brother's reply, John still remained silent, his eyes flicking back to the controls in front of him for a brief second before Gordon continued.

"I'm sorry, John, I'm just not used to this feeling - how can you do it for months at a time up in Five? This is unbearable!"

"You get used to it, I suppose." answered John with a shrug, "In a way, being so far away from everyone makes it all a little bit easier because you know there's nothing you can do. The worst thing is being kept out of the loop of it all - that's why I hope Dad and Alan are keeping Virgil updated. He must be going out of his mind by now."

Gordon didn't reply, but the tensing in his jaw gave away how he was feeling. Turning fully to face him, John spoke once more:

"Look, I know you're worried about Scott but he'll be alright - it's Scott for God's sake! I've never met anyone with as much luck as him! Remember when he crashed One in the desert that time? And all he had was a headache for a couple of days! I mean, he might have broken the occasional bone, but come on, he's practically untouchable!"

Gordon swallowed, and fiddled with a loose thread on his suit, his restlessness betraying his young age.

"Can you promise he'll be alright, John?" Gordon asked, so quietly John almost didn't hear him.

Running his hands through his hair, John sighed.

"You know I can't promise that, Gords, but we'll do our best, right?

Briefly nodding, Gordon settled back down to the computers before him. He was rubbish with technology, and he wasn't even sure if he could make the cameras work again and half of him knew John was well aware of this, but he appreciated his brother's effort to make him feel like he was helping in some way. Typing in yet another numerical sequence that would hopefully reactivate some of the security tapes, Gordon couldn't help but think this was going to be a long night.

* * *

Virgil could only be thankful that Jeff had insisted that Alan kept their middle brother completely up-to-date with the situation in Minnesota. Virgil was still sat in the same café, in the same seat, with the same, though now cold, coffee. It was very odd for him not to be hands-on in a rescue, and Virgil found that he didn't know what to do with himself. Alan had recently ended the connection between them, promising to let him know of any changes concerning Scott, and Virgil knew that their father would be far too stressed to be dealing with him demanding answers to questions that none of them had.

A flurry of movement skimmed along the edge of his vision, and startled Virgil out of his thoughts. Turning, he stared as crowds of people had started to gather around the huge televised board that stood over Times Square. Curiosity got the better of him, and Virgil rose to his feet and stepped outside, only to be nearly knocked down by more people rushing towards the centre of the square as soon as he'd stepped out the door.

Following the crowd, Virgil found himself staring up at the huge board. Instead of advertising products, like it usually did, or even streaming a sports event across New York's centre, the screen was black, flickering as if a bad signal was trying to get through. Frowning, he squinted up at the screen trying to determine what was going on. Listening the people around him, no one else seemed to know what was happening either, and IR training made Virgil feel concerned that this was clearly not the norm. Raising his wrist discreetly to his mouth, Virgil was about to put in a call to base and let his father know of the strange circumstance now happening in New York when the screen suddenly burst into life, and nothing could've prepared Virgil for what came onto the television. Any thoughts of contacting base were forgotten as Virgil stared in horror with everyone else at the image that burned into his eyes like fire - this couldn't be real!

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	9. Chapter 9

**So here's chapter 9! Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews and follows and favourites - it really means a lot! Bit of a longer chapter here, and I hope you all enjoy!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 9:**

The first thing that Scott could feel after returning to some sort of awareness was that it was hot - far too hot. Moments passed and the heat never left, and Scott shifted in irritation. The air conditioning on the island couldn't be broken, unless Gordon had been allowed to change the pool temperate again. Frowning, Scott noticed there was something hard, but cool beneath his cheek and feeling more than slightly confused, he forced his eyes open to see what on earth had happened to his pillow this time. A dim light in the room illuminated the hard stone floor that Scott lay on, though it seemed to annoyingly blur in and out of focus for the pilot. Even more confused, Scott tried to sit up, only to gasp in pain as agony laced through his skull. Bad idea, he thought to himself as he relaxed back, closing his eyes. Instead he focussed on using his other senses to explain where the hell he was right now.

Shifting his limbs, he managed to deduce that he was lying on his left side and his legs had full movement (though that seemed unnecessary at the moment, considering he didn't actually have a use for them right now). His arms, however, seemed to have been restrained behind him and a quick twist of the wrists confirmed that extraordinarily tight handcuffs had clamped his arms behind his back. The cold handcuffs were relieving against his hot skin in the stifling room however, but a thought suddenly crossed his mind when he realised that the cuffs rested on his bare skin. A quick wriggle of his upper body confirmed that his suit had been unzipped and rolled down to his hips, leaving him in just the t-shirt he wore underneath his uniform. He thought hard about how he would have gotten into this current predicament, when suddenly the memories hit him like a wave. Wrenching his eyes open, he attempted to force his limbs into a sitting position without making himself feel like he was going to spill his last meal all over the floor.

After what felt like hours of trying, he managed to prop himself up against a wall behind him and surveyed his surroundings. With control panels all around with flashing lights, plus a door plastered with warning and danger signs, Scott assumed he was in the reactor room in the plant they'd been in for what felt like forever. It seemed that he was alone in the room, there was no noise apart from a faint beeping somewhere to his left and the sound of his thudding heart as he tried to get his breathing under control again after his battle to be upright. Remembering that Gordon had been observing the power station via security cameras, Scott searched for any cameras in the room. There appeared to be three cameras in the room, though similarly to the one that was outside the entrance to the building, there was a distinct lack of flashing lights to signify that they were still working. Sighing, Scott leant back on the desk he was sitting against. The lack of people was unsettling, and Scott didn't understand where everyone was. There wasn't a sign of anyone being around; though his removal from the corridor and placement here suggested that there was at least one person around but their absence weren't here right now did nothing to help ease Scott's confusion.

However, just as Scott was attempting to reach his watch to call for aid, a door creaking open to his right stopped his movements. Peering towards the noise, Scott watched as a bald man in long, red robes stepped into his field of vision.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Tracy."

Scott stared blankly at the man standing before him. He'd never seen this man before in his life, yet not only had knocked him out and brought him here, he also seemed to know his name.

"Who are you?" asked Scott hoarsely, his voice rough after its lack of use.

"Forgive me," replied the man, a hand on his chest, "I haven't properly introduced myself. You can call me the Hood, and I'm sure it's as much as a pleasure to meet me as it is for me to meet you."

"Pleasure's the operative word," Scott mumbled before continuing slightly louder "why am I here?"

"Well, you see, I need you here for... a business deal, shall we say? I've been observing you Tracy's for awhile now, watched International Rescue evolve into a vital service to the rest of the world, yet International Rescue has failed so many times. I doubt you remember, but there was an accident Malaysia many months ago and International Rescue performed their greatest failure. A failure to check all of the caves during a landslide and people were trapped inside, one of whom was me."

"Look," Scott began, guilt surging through him as he remembered the rescue, "it was impossible for us to check every cave - half of them were totally inaccessible! We tried, and I'm sorry we couldn't get you out, I really am."

"I don't want your apologies," replied the Hood bluntly, "I'm looking for something more."

Dreading the answer, Scott hesitantly asked "What is it?"

"Revenge. I know exactly who International Rescue are - the great Jeff Tracy runs this fun-filled family business as a way to cope with his continuing grief over the death of his darling wife in that tragic avalanche."

Scott flinched at the mention of his mother's death, but said nothing and waited for the man to continue.

"See, I am most displeased at being left to die by International Rescue, but fortunately for me, I have thought of a way you can make it up to me. Your father owns the biggest and richest company in the world, as well as those wonderful machines you call the Thunderbirds, and I would love to have a share of these profits. You needn't do anything but sit here and be a good boy for the cameras."

Before Scott could even question what the Hood meant, two men that he hadn't even noticed had entered grabbed his upper arms and dragged him to a chair in the middle of the room that had previously escaped his notice. Fastening the handcuffs already clamped around his wrists to the straight-backed chair, the two men took a step back, allowing the Hood to approach Scott.

"I hope for your sake your father gives in easily, Scott, because the entire world is about to see what happens when someone crosses me."

"We didn't cross you!" cried Scott, outraged and leaning forward in the chair, "We could barely reach anyone in that landslide, it was nothing personal!"

"Perhaps, but it does nothing to improve the reputation of International Rescue. Leaving innocent victims to die? That doesn't seem very friendly."

"You have no idea!" Scott began to reply, but unbeknownst to him, one of the men had stepped forward once more and cut off Scott's reply half way through with a blow to the stomach, followed with a swift punch to the side of the head. Scott's vision swam in and out of focus and he took a moment to right his breathing once more.

"Now, Scott, time to smile for the camera. The whole world is about to see you!"

Scott glanced up just in time for one of the men to stride in front of him and flick a camera that had been placed in front of the chair on. The Hood turned to face it, and all Scott could think of was how grateful he was that his suit had been rolled down in time.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Super sorry for the late upload - university has been absolutely mad with deadlines and essays and exams! Hopefully the chapter being a little longer will make up for it! Enjoy!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 10:**

Times Square was eerily silent, the crowd staring at the huge television screen in the centre in silence as the image was burned into the memory of every person present. The feeling of horror was heavy in the air, but no one felt it as much as Virgil Tracy, who stood slightly to the side of the crowd, partially hidden by the shadows. Biting down on his knuckles to conceal his anguish, Virgil could only stare at the screen which was broadcasting the image of his eldest brother who looked like he'd been on the wrong end of someone's fist (with potentially said person standing slightly behind him) and appeared to be bound to a chair in a dark, crumbling room. Scott was slumped where he sat, dried blood caking the right hand side of his face. He had glanced at the camera briefly as it had first blared into life, but since then had apparently been staring at the ground. Another man in red clothing was standing slightly in front of Virgil's brother, and the crowd's attention snapped to him as he started to speak:

"Well, it is nice to have the entire world's population paying attention to you, it's just a shame you're meeting me under such serious circumstances. My stage name, so to speak, is the Hood, and I'm afraid I have matters to discuss with one Jefferson Tracy, who has disappointed me beyond words. Now, Mr. Tracy, I'm sure you'll be watching this transmission carefully, and I have no doubt that you will have forgotten me but I feel that you will remember this: Malaysia, September last year, landslide. Failures there led to lives being lost and a failure here may lead to the death of your son here,"

To emphasise his point concerning Scott's potential death, the Hood raised a finger and the man behind Scott stepped forward, gripped his hair tightly, and jerked his head back, hard. Scott let out a grunt at the treatment which was quickly cut short as the man placed a gleaming knife against his throat. The crowd gasped, and the Hood grinned manically, revelling in the universal shock.

"I am more than aware of your reputation as a businessman, Tracy, and so, in proper business-style, I suggest a compromise. As compensation for Malaysia, you give me $10 million and maybe even a go on those fantastic 'planes' of yours, and I will give your son back safe and sound. Well, mostly. You have until midnight to give me your response and gather the ransom together."

The transmission ended suddenly, the screen going black, and suddenly people's buzzing chatter filled the air once more, this time ripe with curiosity and excitement. The people had no emotional attachment to the Tracy's; their suffering meant little to anyone else, and the Hood's threats to Jeff only fuelled the people's lust for gossip.

Virgil scowled at the crowd, his anger at them overtaking his worry for his eldest brother for the briefest moment before he lifted his watch before opening the line to base. He could only hope that his father was keeping his emotions in check better than he was.

* * *

An incoming call from Virgil jolted Jeff out of his thoughts. The transmission from the Hood had ended as suddenly as it had come, and whilst Jeff had been expecting some sort of minor disaster after Scott had gone missing in the power station, he certainly hadn't been expecting this. Opening the line to Virgil, he was greeted with middle son's worried face.

"Did you get that, Dad?"

"You bet I did, Virg. It was certainly a surprise."

"You're telling me - I'm pretty sure the entire world's got the message. Any idea who this Hood guy is?"

"Not really..." replied Jeff, clearly thinking hard, "Let me add Alan into the line, maybe he can bring up some records of our previous rescues."

There was a moments silence in their conversation whilst Jeff contacted Alan up in Thunderbird Five, but it was quickly broken by his youngest son's slightly panicked voice.

"Did you see that, Dad? What are you going to do? And who's the Hood, anyway?"

Alan's stream of questions almost went completely over Jeff's head as he struggled to process everything Alan was asking.

"Yes, of course I did, Alan, and I'm not sure what we're doing yet. I called you to ask you something - can you pull up a list of any missions we completed in Malaysia in September last year? This might give us a clue as to who this Hood is." answered Jeff, running his spare hand through his hair once again.

"F.A.B." was Alan's reply, and the three members of the Tracy family sat in silence whilst Alan worked, none of them being able to voice what they were thinking.

Alan was efficient, however, and before they knew it, his voice was breaking the silence once more.

"In September we only visited Malaysia once - there was a pretty serious landslide there; we couldn't get everyone out. Most people had taken refuge in the surrounding caves, but loads of them were completely blocked off by all the mud. Roughly a third of the people involved in the accident were reported as lost or deceased so I suppose this Hood was caught in the landslide but managed to escape. He must be bitter about us not being able to reach him." Alan reported, ever the professional.

"That doesn't explain how he knew who IR were or how he's managed to get hold of Scott." said Virgil, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard in the overflowing square in New York.

"Well, how he's managed to get hold of Scott is easy - he must have staged the meltdown in Minnesota in order to get International Rescue. He said he's been watching us for awhile too, so the only way I can think of for him knowing our identities is him potentially seeing our faces at the rescue, and linking it to media coverage of us as the Tracy's." replied Jeff, concern shining in his eyes.

"What do we do now, then?" asked Alan.

Jeff was silent for a moment, before facing the camera which allowed his boys to see him,

"We do nothing for now. Alan, contact Gordon and John and make sure they know what's happening. Virgil, stay low - you can't have anyone recognise you as a Tracy. Listen to what the people are saying and don't do anything rash."

"And you, Dad?"

"I'll see if I can contact the Hood, keep the link private and see if I can appease him. Oh, and Alan?"

"Yeah?" replied his youngest son, turning his attention back to his father.

"Don't let Gordon do anything stupid."

Alan grinned, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"F.A.B., Dad."

The boys both closed their connections to base, leaving Jeff alone. Sighing, he couldn't help but wonder how all of this had happened. The rescue was meant to be a basic one, but now he had one son being held hostage, two other sons stuck in the same building with said kidnapper, another son stuck on the other side of America, and his final son looking more stressed than he'd ever been and stuck thousands of miles in space. For not the first time, Jeff wondered what it would be like to have an easy life before he started to search for ways to contact the madman who was holding his eldest son at knifepoint.

 **What did you think?**


	11. Chapter 11

**I can't believe we're on chapter 11 already! Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews and favourites and follows! It really means a lot to me.**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 11:**

"This is hopeless!" cried Gordon, running a hand over his face in exasperation. The transmission from the Hood had ended at least two minutes ago, leaving John and Gordon to try everything they could to find the exact location of their brother. They had already spoken with Alan; their younger brother was struggling to conceal his concern for the safety of his three brothers in the power station but had told them everything they had discovered about the Hood regardless. Despite now knowing who they were dealing with, John and Gordon still had no clue where the Hood was, or where he was holding their eldest brother - John had even gone as far as attempting to reboot the power of the entire station in order to get the cameras to turn back on but it had been to no avail, and the two brothers were now at a complete loss at what to do.

John felt just as desperate as his younger brother, but big brother instincts kicked in and he found himself attempting to comfort Gordon with soothing gestures and empty words. Finally sitting back from the desk that he'd been staring at for hours, John glanced towards the screens that Gordon had been monitoring. The screens that were working had shown empty rooms for hours, but the smallest movement in one picture caught John's eye. Reaching over Gordon and ignoring his questioning look, John rewound the tape and grinned despite himself.

"There's someone in there," stated John, answering Gordon's unspoken question and gesturing with his hand at the shadow on the screen.

Gordon joined his older brother in peering at the grainy image in front of them and clapped John on the shoulder.

"Good job, Johnnyboy, let's go take a look." replied Gordon, beginning to rise to his feet before a hand on his elbow stopped him in his tracks.

"You can't just go barging in Gords; how do you think they managed to catch Scott? We need a plan, let base know what we're doing... it's too dangerous."

"We can't just sit here and wait! We've been doing it for hours - this guy might be working for the Hood, or even be a worker who survived! I can't stay here anymore!" Gordon's frustration began to reveal itself in his voice, his tone becoming pleading towards the end.

Glancing between the screen and his younger brother, John sighed, sensing defeat. There was no way he could get Gordon to back down on his decision - he was far too stressed about Scott at this point. Releasing Gordon's arm and rising to his own feet, John took a moment to note down the location of the mysterious man before taking a step back to allow Gordon access to the door.

"Are you serious?" asked Gordon, confused at the behaviour coming from his older brother.

"Completely, though I'm fairly sure I'll probably regret doing what you want to do later."

"That seems uncalled for - my plans always work out well."

"Name one time something didn't go wrong when you made the plan instead of Scott or Virgil." replied John, raising an eyebrow.

Gordon fumbled for a moment, thinking through IR rescues in which he'd made a good decision instead of his Field Commander and team medic.

"What about that time we went to Chicago to stop a bombing? Nothing went wrong there and I was calling the shots."

"You were only calling the shots because somehow you managed to shoot Scott with a tranquilliser instead of the person intending to let off the bomb and Virgil was too busy shouting at Alan because amazingly, you still managed to frame him."

"It was definitely Alan who shot Scott, not me." insisted the younger of the two who started to make their way towards to exit.

"You manage to forget, Gords, that I was watching the entire fiasco from above" replied John, beginning to follow his brother to the door, "and I certainly saw you attempting to shoot the bomber whilst also trying to elbow Alan with the recoil because he had insisted before that there was no way you could do it."

"It was only a minor setback anyway, John," said Gordon, dismissing the previous statement with a wave of his hand as he passed through the doorway, "and besides, I did us all a favour - Scott would've just moaned at us the whole way home because of the bomb turning out to be hoax and Alan not understanding wires and snapping all of them "just to be on the safe side". If anything, that plan went spectacularly, and I resent your lack of faith in me."

"Good grief," muttered John as he fell into step with Gordon as they headed towards a flight of stairs at the end of the corridor before raising his voice slightly in order to properly reply to his red-headed sibling: "just do me a favour Gords, and don't try and multi-task this time - it's definitely not your forte."

Gordon sucked in a breath as if to retort, but sounds of movement echoed down the corridor, indicating the presence of someone else being around as they approached the correct room. Motioning to his brother to be quiet, John edged closer to the door which was slightly ajar. Listening hard, John frowned when there was only silence in the other room, and quickly glancing around, it seemed that there was no one in the grey, crumbling corridor. The two brothers shared a confused look before the elder of the two began to step forward towards the room that had initially held another person, but before John could even touch the metal in front of him, a click behind the back of his head and the feeling of a cold, heavy gun digging into the nape of his neck. A sharp intake of breath from Gordon indicated that his brother was being subjected to the same treatment, but before John could think any further, a male voice cut through the air:

"Well, well, well, look what we have here..."

 **Not much really happened here, but hopefully you'll enjoy next week's more! Let me know what you thought anyway!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Another week, another chapter! I hope you're all still enjoying the story and for any Scott-lovers out there, this one's all him!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 12:**

Scott had been left alone after the camera had been turned off, something that he wasn't entirely sure whether to be pleased or not about. It had been at least a quarter of an hour since the Hood had left the room with his henchmen, and, in a moment of desperation, Scott had tried to wriggle his wrists out of the handcuffs in order to contact someone to let them know where he was. The fact that neither Gordon nor John were anywhere to be seen suggested that his current whereabouts were unknown, though the only thing Scott had achieved in the last ten minutes was having two bloodied wrists that weren't going anywhere.

Finally admitting defeat, Scott relaxed in the chair, taking a moment to consider the dilemma he had found himself in this time. The Hood wanted money from the Tracy's, and Scott could only assume that the 'planes' he referred to in his broadcast were the Thunderbirds - he knew that they were International Rescue; he wouldn't want anything else. It was revenge on their father he supposed, and whilst Scott was wasn't sure whether he was the intended hostage - any of the brothers would've done - he couldn't help but feel relieved that it was him. It seemed fitting anyhow, that he was the one in this position considering that he was the Field Commander - he would've made the call to stop searching the caves in Malaysia all those months ago, and Scott would never have allowed his brothers to take the blame for an order he gave.

As suddenly as he had left, the Hood returned to the room that was holding Scott prisoner and Scott fixed him with a cool glare as he was approached by the madman. The Hood grinned manically, thoroughly enjoying the tension that sat heavy in the air. Coming to a stop in front of Scott, the Hood crouched slightly in order to view his captive in the eyes before raising his hand and moving it towards Scott's forehead. Scott flinched, trying to jerk his head back as much as he could, unsure of what the Hood was doing. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Hood smirking as Scott was unable to move any further away, and the Hood's hand made contact with the pilot.

Almost immediately, Scott's world turned black and his nerve endings felt like they were on fire. White hot pain tore through every fibre of his being, shattering each bone, ripping each muscle, and rupturing every artery. Through cotton-wool ears, Scott could hear his own screams being viciously torn from his throat, yet he was helpless to stop them echoing through the reactor room, splitting the previous silence like an arrow. Then, as quickly as the pain had come, it stopped. Panting slightly, Scott took a moment to compose himself, his breaths coming in harsh, pained whimpers as beads of sweat fell softly from his face. The Hood stepped back, seemingly satisfied, and then he spoke:

"A taste of what may come if your father doesn't give into my demands. I wonder how much the human body can take... I survived a landslide, but can your body survive what I have planned for it? I know exactly who you are, Scott Tracy, therefore I know exactly who made the call to stop searching for any missing persons. A Field Commander's job in International Rescue is to give orders that will save lives, and that day in Malaysia - plus countless more before and after that, no doubt - you failed."

Scott silently shook his head, unable to speak, to defend himself against the pure venom in the Hood's voice. The Hood grinned, satisfied with the suffering of his victim. He leaned forward once more, hoping to harm Scott once more, and even laughing out loud when the man flinched away again from his hand, but a beeping noise behind him stopped him in his tracks. One of the henchmen stepped forward, gesturing the device they had previously been recording on which had a small screen stating "incoming call". The Hood nodded, and Scott couldn't believe who was on the other line.

"Jeff Tracy! What a pleasure. I thought I'd have to be contacting you again and again - have we come to an agreement, then?" the Hood greeted Jeff with false cheer, spreading his arms and partially hiding Scott from view.

"What's this all about?" demanded Jeff "I've never seen you before, we've never done anything to you yet here you are holding my son for ransom."

"Now that is exactly where you're wrong, Tracy. See, me and Scotty here have been having a nice chat about what really happened all those months ago, and I think we both agree on what happened, didn't we?"

The Hood turned slightly to look at Scott, who had recovered somewhat, and was now glaring at the Hood in fury.

"And what was that?" asked Jeff acidly.

"That your delightful Field Commander here" the Hood patted Scott patronisingly on the head before fisting his hand in Scott's hair to stop him from jerking away, "really let the side down. Calling the order to stop searching for victims? Shameful."

"You know that's not how it happened!" replied Scott, angrily.

The Hood tutted, and stepped away to allow one of his men, who now wore a shining pair of knuckle dusters on both hands. He took a few swings at Scott, which resulted in the pilot receiving more bloody wounds to his face, and gasping out broken swear words as he fought to regain composure. Jeff had had to quickly look away from the screen as his son was treated brutally by his captors, wincing as the distinctive sound of cracking ribs made its way through the line.

"Honestly Tracy, I thought you would've raised you little clones to not be such dirty liars. What would the public think if they knew that their precious members of International Rescue told such horrid lies?"

"Is that this is really about? Destroying the reputation of International Rescue? You haven't even said that the Tracy's are part of the organisation."

"Well, maybe I like to surprise people," replied the Hood, "and I think this will be one of the greatest surprises the world has ever seen. So what say you? The money and those delightful Thunderbirds of yours for your son?"

"Dad, don't you dare!" answered Scott, leaning forwards and pulling on his restraints.

Jeff could be seen looking back at his eldest son through the screen, clearly thinking hard through his options. Scott stared back in horror - his father couldn't honestly be thinking about not only paying this lunatic but giving him the 'birds as well? The Hood's anger at IR was down to him and him alone, there was no way Scott was going to allow his decisions affect the rest of his family.

In one final attempt to stop his father potentially speaking the words he couldn't bear to hear, Scott kicked one leg out, catching the man holding the camera on the knee. The man stumbled, dropped the camera, and grunted in pain and fury. The screen went black, and the Hood turned to Scott, fury evident in eyes. Scott didn't care - anything to stop Jeff from choosing him over International Rescue. Surrounded by his captors, there was nothing Scott could do to prevent the punishment that he knew was coming, but all he wished for was that unconsciousness would come quickly.

 **The other boys will be back soon, promise! Let me know what you thought...**


	13. Chapter 13

**I can't believe it's chapter 13 already! I can't believe all the lovely reviews I've been receiving - it's so encouraging for me when I get that lovely email giving me another review! Thanks everyone so much, and I hope you're all still enjoying the story!**

 **P.S. in case you haven't already, go check out my other multi-chapter fic about the boys: Space Race. I hope you'll enjoy that one too!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 13:**

Alan hadn't heard anything from any member of his family since signing off with John and Gordon almost an hour ago. Gordon had been positively furious over the Hood's message to the world, whereas John had been silent, sitting on all his thoughts. This was nothing new, John had always been one to keep his thoughts to himself, and Alan, as the baby of the family, lacked the authority to demand John to tell him how he was feeling. This whole situation was taking its toll on Alan - his shift on Thunderbird Five ended in just a few days and he wanted nothing more at that point but to be curled up in his own bed back on base with all his family there. Swallowing the emotions that had forced their way up his throat, Alan concentrated on the task at hand: attempting to stop all of the transmissions from the Hood from being broadcasted to the entire world. It was a huge thing to do, to override someone else's live feed and only have it shown over a select number of computers (base and Thunderbird Five, plus Virgil's, John's, and Gordon's watches). For not the first time today, Alan wished John was here. He was far better at this sort of thing than he was, and more than once had feelings of despair threatened to overwhelm the youngest Tracy son.

Just as Alan was about to give in and call John and beg for help, an incoming call from his father stopped his thoughts and Alan quickly answered:

"Reading you, Dad, how did it go?"

"It's worse than I thought, Sprout - I think the Hood blames Scott for what happened in Malaysia, plus I'm certain that he wants to ruin International Rescue's reputation for good, though he's saying it'll be a surprise? The man's a maniac; I don't know how we're going to predict his next moves." replied Jeff, sighing.

"How's Scotty?" asked Alan delicately.

"A bit beat up, but he's had worse. He kicked their camera over and ended the transmission, so he's still got fight in him. He's seems angry more than anything else."

"Sounds like our Scotty, though I bet they're not pleased with him interrupting their conference call with you." said Alan worriedly, biting his lip absent-mindedly.

"He'll be alright, Sprout, don't worry." reassured Jeff, though no one could deny the falseness behind his smile "How were John and Gords?"

"Gordon seemed pretty pissed at the entire thing - wanted to run off there and then, though I think John managed to control him. Better than I did, at least."

"Spoken to either of them since?" asked Jeff.

"Nope, not a word. I can check in with them now, if you want?"

"Do that... I'll call Virg, see what the situation is with the public. You going to be alright, Allie?"

Alan contemplated telling his father exactly how he was feeling - that he was scared, and worried, and most of all, he was lonely. Realising that his dad didn't need to be stressed about his youngest son as well as his oldest, Alan answered with a nod of the head before signing off.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Alan prayed that his two brothers that remained in the station were safe - he wasn't sure he could cope with much more.

* * *

"So tell me, what are two members of the famous International Rescue doing skulking around a place like this, hmm?" the man sneered, not lowering his gun.

John and Gordon had been shoved into the exact room they had seen the man before them in. He was now standing opposite them, the gun's aim alternating between the brothers. Unsure of how to answer, neither Tracy spoke which only managed to infuriate the man standing before them.

"Well?" he asked again, slightly more aggressively this time and taking a step forward, making a point to jab the end of the gun into Gordon's chest.

"Don't you already know the answer?" replied Gordon, not impressed with this new inconvenience that they had come across.

John inwardly groaned - this was not the time for Gordon to be a smartarse. The man scowled, as unappreciative of Gordon's lip as John was. Moreover, like John, the mysterious man felt that violence was the best way to stop Gordon when he ran his mouth, but unlike John, the man felt that a backhand with the butt of the gun was a sufficient form of violence to show his displeasure. John winced as the gun collided with his younger brother's face and he reached out and caught Gordon's arm to steady him as he let out a grunt and spat a mouthful of blood onto the stone floor.

"Perhaps someone needs to learn some respect," spat the man, glaring at the Gordon.

The man looked angry, but similarly to the Hood (in the video both he and Gordon had watched in the control room); he had a slightly unhinged air to him. His mousey brown hair was ruffled, sticking up in all angles, and he had reddish smears across his right cheek. Swallowing hard, John could only pray it wasn't what he thought it was, but John could only assume this man was one of the Hood's henchmen, like the ones that were present in the film with Scott and was likely to be a guilty party in the murders of the workers.

"We obviously came in response to a distress signal sent to International Rescue earlier today concerning a nuclear meltdown at this power station." replied John tonelessly.

"Maybe I should rephrase myself: why are you skulking around here? I thought... Didn't he...?" the man trailed off, frowning and seemingly losing interest in the two men in front of him as he thought to himself.

John and Gordon exchanged looks, shrugging - maybe the man was under the impression that all members of International Rescue had been caught by the Hood, rather than just Scott. Unexpectedly, the man turned away from them and brought out a walkie-talkie (to contact his boss, no doubt), and Gordon took this as his chance. Taking one last guilty look at John, he sprang forward, tackling the man to the floor from behind.

The man let out a furious shout, which was accompanied by John's yell of surprise. The man was taller than Gordon, but years of swimming had given him a far more solid build and a strength that was often forgotten about. Gordon managed to pin the man to the floor, but in the adrenaline-fuelled fight, he couldn't hear John yelling him a warning about the forgotten gun. The man grabbed it, and swung his arm in front of him again in one swift movement, and before Gordon could react, he had fired.

 **Seems I can't resist a good cliffhanger so apologies there! Let me know what you think!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Another week, another chapter! Hope you're all still enjoying the story and thanks so much for all the lovely reviews! They make my day!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 14:**

Pushing further into the crowd, Virgil Tracy had submerged himself in the sea of people who eagerly awaited another announcement from the Hood in Times Square. He'd kept his head down at an attempt to not be recognised by anyone who was involved in the business world or who worked at Tracy Corps., which was situated close to the square, and the brothers, especially Scott and John, were occasionally recognised as the playboy sons of Jeff Tracy. Virgil wasn't too concerned at this point; the crowd was too interested in the hostage situation to pay him much attention.

Virgil had taken into account, however, was that his father wanted to know what people were saying and so Virgil had dived in and listened closely in on other people's conversations as he subtly made his way over to a coffee stall on the opposite side of the square. He'd heard a range of things whilst shoving through the masses of people, mostly along the sympathy lines: "How awful for Mr. Tracy", "That poor boy", and "Imagine if that happened to **your** family... just terrible". Occasionally the people were fairly unconcerned with the whole situation, brushing off comments like: "Of course it'll all be paid, he's a billionaire, this is nothing to him" and "I'm sure it'll be fine, things like this happen all the time". Numerous times Virgil had had to bite back a retort when someone spoke cruelly about the family, having the nerve to criticise Jeff. Phrases like: "He won't pay, those businessmen, they're all the same - more concerned about their money than their family. Besides, hasn't he got loads of kids?" and "The Tracy's haven't exactly sold themselves well... they shut themselves off on some private island whilst we suffer. They don't care about us, why should we care about some rich playboy dealing with daddy issues?"

Furious at the public's ignorance of what the Tracy family went through every day for the same people who judged and criticised them, Virgil continued to his destination - a secluded spot beneath a tree, enough cover to conceal his identity if need be. Deep down, Virgil knew that it wasn't the people's fault that they were so blind to who the faces were behind International Rescue, and that they were right, the Tracy's did hide themselves from the public eye, but by the time Virgil had taken shelter behind a tree to call base, he was still bitter at some people's complete lack of care towards someone else's wellbeing. Just because Scott wasn't related to them didn't mean that his welfare wasn't important. Taking a deep, calming breath, Virgil opened the line to base; ready to explain what he'd heard to his father.

"Any news, Virg?" asked Jeff, answering the call quickly.

"Not really - most people are sympathetic more than anything else, but some morons out there are being pretty harsh. We might need to improve our public image after this has all blown over."

"I knew something like this would happen," sighed Jeff "how bad is it?"

"Just the usual 'why should they care', 'we're just playboys', and 'Jeff Tracy doesn't care'. I don't think it's anything we haven't heard before." replied Virgil, with a shrug.

"It was bound to happen - just ignore them and keep waiting it out. It's the only thing you can do at this point, son."

"Yeah, I'd guessed as much. How was the attempted phone call?" inquired Virgil, referring to Jeff's previous attempt to contact the Hood privately.

"Difficult to say; Scott is alive, which is a plus, but the Hood's furious with him personally about halting the search after the landslide. He's threatening to tell everyone who we are unless I give him what he wants, but Scott ended the call before I could say anything. He thinks that IR is more important than he is." responded Jeff, exhaustion evident in his face.

"Classic Scott," Virgil answered with a small chuckle, a weak attempt to lighten the mood, "what are you going to do, then?"

"I've got no idea, Virg, no idea at all. Look, I'll call you back in ten - let me see what John thinks, he might have some good ideas, plus I haven't heard from him or Gords in awhile."

"Are they alright?" cut in Virgil, worriedly.

"I'm sure they'll be fine, don't panic. Just keep a clear head and keep it down low. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah, yeah," the middle Tracy replied, "Just call me with more news?" Virgil added desperately.

"F.A.B. son."

His father ended the connection, and Virgil was left alone once more. Weighing up his options, Virgil decided that burying himself in the buzzing crowd was a better bet than hovering near the edge of the group alone, and therefore was less likely to be singled out and recognised. Pushing through the swarms of people, Virgil found himself in near enough the centre when the huge screen crackled into life once more.

The picture shown was not dissimilar to the image that they, and most likely the rest of the world, had seen previously. The Hood was standing closest to the camera again, and a man was situated behind Scott once more. Biting down hard on his lip, Virgil was hard-pushed not to emit a cry of anguish at the state of his eldest brother. Scott was slumped in the same seat he'd been sat in before, but whether he was conscious now was impossible to tell. More blood smeared his hair, face, and clothes, and his chest shuddered and shook, with ragged gasps in the background which could be heard as Scott struggled to breathe. The Hood wore a wide grin as he faced the camera, letting the image of his hostage sink into people's memories. Suddenly, forcing the public's attention back to him, the Hood spoke:

"It's lovely to see you all once more," greeted the Hood with an air of cheeriness so false it chilled Virgil to the bone "but I have less than good news to pass on! I've spoken briefly with the great Jeff Tracy, and he's not as generous as he appears - all those fancy charity balls have all been for nothing, it seems!"

There was a quiet hum of chatter amongst the crowd that Virgil had placed around himself, some voices rich with disbelief, others satisfied with their apparently correct initial view of a family they didn't even know.

"I thought, perhaps," pondered the Hood to the crowd "that revealing a tiny, little secret of Jeff Tracy's might make him pay up, but not yet."

There was a groan of disappointment through the crowd, bitter that they would miss out on some rich gossip about one of the most elusive men on the planet, but their whining was quickly cut short as the Hood continued to speak:

"I've thought of something better instead! You know, it's nice that there are so many Tracy sons around," the Hood stepped closer to Scott, fondly touching the back of his head. Virgil sighed in relief as Scott proved that he was at least slightly conscious; he sluggishly moved his head away from the Hood's hand with a soft groan. The Hood just grasped his hair again, forcing his face towards the camera, though Scott seemed unable to recognise much of what was happening around him, and failed to look directly at it.

The Hood spoke once more, facing the camera again himself: "I get one Tracy here, and I know that another Tracy is in New York. Virgil, isn't it? I hope you're watching this closely because, as a pay incentive to your father, I've devised something a little more... explosive, shall we say? A challenge to you New Yorkers," cried the Hood, releasing his hold on Scott and stepping forward again, "the Headquarters for Tracy Corps is very close to Times Square, and I estimate that you have... an hour or so before the bomb that's within it blows up. For Virgil's sake, let's say you have until 10pm before your family's business erupts over the city. Perhaps, Jeff, now you will consider the life of your sons before the importance of your little secrets. Oh, and Virgil? It's probably time to run."

The screen went black, and panic began to take over the crowd. Shrieking and running for cover, people began to flee the area only to find there was nowhere to go. Opening a line to base as he ran, Virgil waited for his father's voice in his ear to rise over the din of the crowd.

"Dad?" Virgil prompted as soon as the line opened, "We have a huge problem."

"I've just heard the latest from John and Gords, Virg, you're telling me..."

 **Hmm, seems I can't stop with all these cliffhangers...**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello, hello! Sorry this chapter's a little late but it is longer than usual so I hope you enjoy!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 15:**

A stunned silence had fallen over the room after the gun had gone off; Gordon lay slightly to the side, clutching at his left arm as a weak attempt to stem the blood seeping out between his fingers from the bullet wound in his bicep, and John stood frozen slightly behind him, the shock of the blast numbing his thought processes briefly. Gordon groaned softly, attempting to move into a sitting position, and John snapped out of it. Crouching down, he assisted his younger brother in moving into a more upright position before examining the wound in Gordon's arm.

Ignoring the attacker for the time-being, John determined that whilst the wound was bleeding heavily, the bullet hadn't actually gone fully into the arm and had badly grazed it instead.

"Well, that was a bit stupid, wasn't it?" sneered their captor, rising to his feet.

Gordon scowled at the man before allowing John to haul him to his feet. Staggering slightly, John steadied his brother and glared at the man in front of them. Gordon continued to hold his left arm and blood dripped down his arm and off his fingers to the floor, but he addressed the man:

"Who are you?"

The man gave Gordon a broad grin before raising his gun once more and replying:

"Someone you probably shouldn't mess with again, boy. However, I'm sure you've seen the mysterious Hood around the station? Well, a man needs some muscle, so we're hired by him."

"And what do you want now?" asked John, far less aggressively than his sibling.

"Well, clearly I was under the impression that all the members of International Rescue that were in this station had been caught, but it seems that I was mistaken. The only one who was caught was the one that was the target, however, that leaves two of you wandering around here being a nuisance. But, no matter, I can make use of you yet." the man responded, menacingly.

* * *

Skidding to a stop outside a set of glass double doors, Virgil double-checked his watch to see whether he'd been sent the location of the bomb yet by Alan. After signing off from his father and hearing the news that John and Gordon were not responding to hails on their watches, Virgil had called his younger brother up on Thunderbird Five. He knew Alan was feeling helpless on the other side of the Earth's atmosphere, and so in an attempt to make him feel useful, Virgil had asked Alan to scan the Tracy Corps building for the bomb that the Hood had set to detonate.

Virgil had managed to mostly ignore any comments directed his way from passersby's who happened to have recognise him as one of the Tracy's, though oddly it was harder to ignore the stares from people as he raced to his father's office. He knew that there were people who would blame him for the bomb's presence in New York, and nothing he could say would change their minds. Virgil could only hope that by stopping the bomb from detonating, people would perhaps think more kindly on the Tracy's.

"Come in, Virg," his youngest brother's voice crackled through Virgil' wristwatch as he hurried across the lobby of the Tracy Corps building. Fortunately, most of the staff had fled the building after hearing the message from the Hood, so Virgil had free roam of the huge office block.

"Reading you, Sprout, found anything?"

"You're in luck - the bomb's relatively easy to get to, though there still people in the immediate vicinity - God knows why. It's under a desk or something on the very cliché 13th floor. I can't specify much more than that but my readings are saying that it's over towards the right of the floor - I think it's the accountancy department."

"F.A.B. Alan, thanks for the help." answered Virgil, beginning to make a move.

"Virg," came Alan's voice, stopping his older brother from ending the call.

"What's up?"

"Be safe," the younger of the two pleaded, concern shining in his eyes as Virgil looked at the small screen.

"I'll do my best, Allie." replied Virgil softly, before cutting the connection.

Trying to ignore how tense his youngest brother sounded, Virgil made his way to the stairs, knowing better than to trust the lifts in a situation like this. Breaking into a run, Virgil dodged around staff that were making their way out of the building and ignored their pressing stares, focussing on the task at hand.

Making it to the 13th floor in record time, Virgil hurried down the corridors, trying to locate the accountancy department where Alan believed the bomb was. Bursting into the room, Virgil searched it from top to bottom, listening hard for the tell-tale beeping of a timed bomb and watching out of the corner of his eye for any flashing lights that indicated that something was there.

Minutes passed, and Virgil checked his watch urgently. He was running out of time and the bomb was nowhere to be found. Growling in frustration, Virgil winced as he tried to move a cabinet, the adrenaline making him forget about his sprained wrist from the night before. He finally forced the cabinet open, and his jaw dropped in shock at what was inside.

Instead of finding the bomb, Virgil came face-to-face with a small digital camera. Picking it up and turning it over, he was surprised to see that it was on.

"What the...?" Virgil murmured distractedly as he flicked through the recent images. Only one item was there - a short video that had been filmed a few hours previously. Pressing play, Virgil leaned back on a desk as the video started.

"If you're watching this, Virgil Tracy, you must've known that your great father was uncooperative."

Covering his mouth to conceal his horror, Virgil's eyes were glued to the screen as the Hood spoke to him from the past.

"Now, I understand that you'll be looking for my little bit of fun that I've placed in your father's building. It's funny, bombs are far easier to conceal than one might think, and it's just so easy to make people look the other way. I bet your brother on your adorable space station told you that the bomb is in this room, right? Well, close but not quite close enough! Perhaps you Tracy's have been watching too many horror films - I would never be so obvious to choose the 13th floor! If you knew me at all, you'd know that my lucky number is 15."

Groaning, Virgil forced himself to look back at the image in front of him, only to be greeted by the smug face of the Hood.

"Well, doesn't time just fly, Virgil? Tick tock goes the clock, as they say! Best hurry - time's not only running out for you."

Just before the video clip ended, the camera quickly left the Hood's face to a slumped figure on the edge of the room. They were lying on the floor, completely motionless, and Virgil could only assume this was Scott a few hours ago. Swallowing hard, Virgil blinked back suppressed emotions as the screen went black, removing Scott from Virgil's vision.

The Hood's voice echoed in Virgil's head as he stood there blankly for a few moments. How could the Hood know that he was going to be in New York? And how could he know that Jeff wouldn't have paid yet? He suddenly gasped as he remembered the Hood's words: "tick tock goes the clock". How could he have been so stupid to stand here, wasting valuable time, as a bomb prepared itself to blow the entire building up. Looking at his watch, Virgil swore as he saw the time - it was already 9:50pm, and Virgil had wasted far too much in here already. Sprinting out of the room and up the stairs, he raced to the 15th floor, hoping that the Hood had been giving him a clue as to where the bomb was when he talked inanely about his lucky number.

The corridors were empty; everyone had apparently fled the building by now, something which Virgil was extremely grateful for as there was now the risk that he wouldn't make it to the bomb in time. Stopping briefly, Virgil stood alone, wondering where on earth the bomb would be now he was on (hopefully) the right floor. Jeff's office was on this floor, right at the end, and as if suddenly emerging from water, Virgil's thoughts cleared and it hit him - the bomb would be in his father's office. There was no other place it would be. The Hood certainly had proved that he liked a show and what better way to show up Jeff Tracy than to blow up his building from his own office?

Throwing himself through the door and grunting a little as his knee and wrist protested, Virgil knew he'd come to the right place as there, straight in front of him on the desk, was a small, homemade bomb. He darted forwards and quickly checked the clock - 9:58pm. There was no time! He tore open the hatch which had the controls in to activate or deactivate the bomb, Virgil desperately tried to work out which wire needed to be unplugged to shut it down. The timer read less than thirty seconds now, and in a last ditch attempt to save the building, Virgil pulled two wires out and sprinted out the room, hoping he'd done enough.

The timer stuttered and flashed behind the rapidly closing door to Jeff Tracy's office, but despite his best efforts, Virgil was thrown down the corridor in a flash of white light and blazing heat as the explosion signaled his failure.

 **Let me know what you thought!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Here's chapter 16! Hope you all enjoy and I promise Space Race will have an update very soon!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 16:**

"Well, it seems time is running out," said the Hood conversationally "10 o'clock already - I wonder how Virgil got on with that fun game I set up in your father's building."

Scott was dimly aware of the Hood speaking to him, but it was difficult to make sense of the words when his blood was rushing through his ears and his head was pounding mercilessly. He was aching from sitting on the hard chair for so long, but any movement just caused more pain to spike in his head and ribs. His only consolation was that the rawness on his wrists from the handcuffs had all but gone; the metal now slippery with his own blood that had run down his arms.

A hand batted the side of his head and Scott grunted in response, lacking the energy to do much else.

"Just checking that you were still awake, Scotty." said the Hood far too brightly; his false sing-song voice cutting through the ringing in Scott's ears.

Although it felt like it was far too much effort, Scott forced himself to look at the Hood, blinking owlishly. The Hood grinned, proud of what he had accomplished in just one day with his guest.

"You wouldn't create much of a stir if you were sleeping - people would think I was being kind and letting you rest! No, the best way to shock them is for you to be either awake or dead, and I really do need you to remain alive for the time being. Do you feel you need a wake-up call...?" the Hood asked sneeringly, leaning in towards the beaten pilot in front of him.

Cruel laughter rang out through the reactor room as Scott flinched away from his captor, not desiring to feel the pain behind those eyes ever again. His jerking movements caused his body to angrily protest, and the man still stood behind him to share in the Hood's glee as Scott gasped in agony.

The Hood crouched down so that he was eye-level with the eldest Tracy son. He waited for Scott to compose himself, and Scott forced himself to look at the Hood in the eye and trying desperately not to look away from the coldness in the man's yellow eyes.

"Would you really put International Rescue before your life? Would you preserve its secrecy for the sake of your father over yourself?" questioned the Hood, his eyes burning into Scott's mind.

"Always." croaked out Scott firmly, despite the hoarseness of his voice.

The Hood stood once more, staring down at Scott who had finally broken eye contact and was staring blankly at the floor through half-lidded eyes. The Hood could not understand how the man's loyalty could overcome self-preservation, nor could he understand how the man could accept full responsibility for what the Hood was accusing him of. The Tracy family never ceased to amaze him, and the eldest son was no exception.

Opening his mouth to speak to the young man once more, the Hood was interrupted by one of his henchmen re-entering the room from behind. Turning and ignoring the sigh of relief from the Field Commander, he addressed the man shortly:

"Well? Any news?"

"The bomb's definitely detonated in New York," stated the man, without any expression, "but we don't know if the Tracy brat is still alive or not. The explosion was definitely reduced in size, no doubt it was him, but there's been no sign of him in the area since."

"Any other casualties?" asked the Hood, irritably.

"Still unknown - most people got out the building and vicinity."

"Well, at least our point had been made..." murmured the Hood, watching Scott carefully as the man's eyes widened in shock at what the henchman had reported.

"Perhaps it's time to call our good friend Jeff once more! It's time to reveal the Tracy family's greatest secret." finished the Hood, his icy tone contrasting the ever increasing heat in the room.

* * *

Being thousands of miles above the Earth's atmosphere when there was nothing happening below was no problem. Being thousands of miles above the Earth's atmosphere during a rescue was difficult at times, but a necessity. Being thousands of miles above the Earth's atmosphere whilst one brother was being held hostage, two had dropped out of contact, and one had been potentially caught in a bomb explosion was unbearable. Alan had almost chewed off half his fingernails in agitation and nerves and his constant tapping of his foot against the hard metal floor of Thunderbird Five was even becoming an annoyance to himself.

He'd lost contact with John and Gordon a few hours ago - they said that they were investigating movement in another part of the power plant. Alan had told them to be safe, though he was sure that they'd ignored that part. Virgil had not been heard of since the bomb in their father's building had gone off, and whilst the explosion had been confined to a far smaller space than it would've been, Alan was no less concerned that his middle-brother was not responding to hails on his watch even if the bomb had exploded to its full potential.

Alan was trying to stay calm for the sake of his father, who he knew was on a caffeine high and threatening to tear all his hair out back on Tracy Island, but the lid that was stopping all of his emotions from spilling out was starting to slip, and more than once since Gordon and John's disappearance Alan had found himself almost making a call to his father to beg for reassurance that everything would be okay.

He knew that his father could do no more than he could at this moment, and that in itself was killing Alan. Jeff was the adult, the father - he was meant to fix everything and put it all back together. If Jeff couldn't fix the mess that was happening back on Earth, and Virgil couldn't do anything, and nor could the rest of his brothers, what else could Alan do? Whatever he could do now up on Thunderbird Five could also be done on Earth by his father or any of his brothers (save Scott, who was more than a little preoccupied at the moment) and Alan had truly never felt so useless in his life.

Attempting to blink away the tears that suddenly threatening to fall, Alan tried to concentrate once more on the screens in front of him. One showed his father's building in New York, plus the area around it, and Alan was simultaneously trying to assess the damage that had been done to it whilst ignoring the emergency calls coming in from New York, begging for International Rescue's help. Alan had left the answering machine on loop - a standard message which told the caller that International Rescue were currently using their operatives elsewhere and would return the calls as soon as possible. Alan hated using it, but right now, it was the only thing he could do. He hated answering the call only to tell the desperate person on the other end that there was nothing he could do to help.

The other screen showed the original map of the power plant in Minnesota that he'd been using when Scott, John, and Gordon had first arrived on the scene. The dots that had shown living people moving around the area had almost all vanished, and Alan now only occasionally got one or two lights which signified people moving along the corridors. The tell-tale coloured lights that showed the members of the Tracy family and International Rescue had vanished hours ago, and Alan could only hope it was a technical problem, rather than something far more sinister. Seeing that the Hood was still broadcasting messages to the world with Scott still in them gave Alan hope that his brothers were still alive, if only just, and something was blocking the signals.

Seeing something flash out of the corner of his eye, Alan slowly shifted his gaze back to the screen of the power plant when he was jolted out of his actions by an alert to an incoming call. Accepting the contact hesitantly, Alan addressed the caller:

"Thunderbird Five receiving you, come in."

 **Apologies for yet another cliff hanger! Let me know what you thought!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Here we have it: chapter 17! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favourited, and followed - it really means the world to me!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 17:**

The distant sound of alarms ringing was dragging Virgil slowly back to awareness. The noise was irritating, threatening to pull him from his cosy sleep. Grunting in annoyance, Virgil attempted to wriggle further down the bed in an attempt to get away from the noise only to be stopped by sharp, stabbing pains running through his body. He winced, and blearily tried to open his eyes, confused as to why he apparently wasn't sleeping in his comfortable bed on Tracy Island.

The world flickered in and out of focus and Virgil furrowed his brow in confusion. Why was he sleeping on the floor? Counting to three as a method to control the pain that Virgil knew was going to return with a vengeance, Virgil forced himself into a more upright position.

A quick glance at his surroundings and the memories before he had lost consciousness suddenly made themselves known. No wonder there was a ringing in his ears - the force of the blast when the bomb had ultimately gone off combined with the sound of the fire alarms charging down the corridors was enough to give Virgil the world's worst headache.

Virgil cursed the fact that at any time you became suddenly more aware of what was around you, everything suddenly became worse. The pressing heat from the flames that were climbing at the walls and the smothering, heavy smoke seemed to announce their presence to Virgil, and he choked on the fumes, gasping as it only caused his skull to ache more.

He realised that running for the exit was not going to be an option - the dense smoke hung low in the air, and Virgil realised with horror that he was going to have to crawl out on his hands and knees. He assumed that his two original injuries he had sustained in his drunken escapades the night before would be nothing in comparison to the hurt he felt now after being hurled down a corridor by a bomb, but now it appeared that if anything, they were hurting more - screaming for his attention now that he desperately needed his knee and wrist to be on top form.

Groaning with the effort, Virgil began the slow and painful crawl to the nearest emergency exit, cursing his stupidity. Of all things he had to get wrong, he had to guess which floor the bomb would be on wrong. Why on Earth would he think the 13th floor would've been a good idea? It's so obvious it's laughable. The Hood was probably having a right old laugh at his expense, probably assuming that he had been killed in the blast. His own family probably assumed he was dead.

Stopping just outside a lift in horror, Virgil realised that all his brothers and father were likely to have thought he had died in the explosion he was supposed to stop. He hadn't even tried to call Alan yet to let him know he was okay.

Mentally slapping himself, Virgil quickly raised his watch to call Alan, let him know he was okay, he was alive. He was just about to speak when he heard a soft banging noise through the ringing in his ears and the fogginess of his brain from somewhere to his left. Frowning, Virgil peered through the ever-thickening smoke at the lift doors. Surely there weren't people who were stupid enough to take a lift in an emergency?

Listening hard again, Virgil cursed when he heard the definite sounds of people shouting from inside.

"Idiots!" muttered Virgil, harshly, as he began to rise slowly to his feet and approached the manual release system. Alan would have to wait, but Virgil could only hope he and the rest of his family were faring a little better than he was right now.

* * *

"I'm so bored," whispered Gordon for the millionth time and John merely sighed.

They had remained standing in the room they had been caught in for ages now, whilst the man had tried to decide what he could do with them. At one point he had briefly left the room, supposedly to talk to a fellow henchman, but the door had been triple locked and there had been no way that the two brother's could have escaped.

John too was bored beyond words, and exhausted from standing for so long. He could see Gordon's watch flashing indicating a missed call but there was nothing they could do about it right now; John hoped it was nothing important, though he was more than aware they had been out of contact for far too long now. Alan was probably losing it up on Thunderbird Five. He opened his mouth to give a sarcastic response to Gordon's whining when their captor turned to them with a grin on his face that John didn't like the look of in the slightest.

"Well, it seems after much deliberation the team and I have thought of something productive you can do during your stay here." the man told them, flashing his teeth in a grin that complimented the manic gleam in his eye.

"And what may that be?" asked Gordon, rolling his eyes. It seemed that being shot had done nothing to make the younger Tracy more cooperative, thought John with a hint of despair.

The man glared at Gordon once again before answering: "It's obvious that we've had to... dispose of some staff members here in order for us to use this building. It's a shame, but finders-keepers and all that!"

The henchman reached up and rubbed a hand across his face, drawing the two brother's attention to the red smear on his left cheek, proudly displayed like a medal of honour.

"It would be so helpful to us if you would remove the bodies from the corridors and bury them outside - it's dirty, manual work that I really can't be bothered with at the moment, and you see, I'm all tired out from the initial disposal of the workers."

John and Gordon stared at the man in shock, unable to believe what he was asking them to do. John swore he heard his younger brother retch a bit, and his own breathing hitched in his throat when he heard the gruesome task he was potentially about to do.

"You can't be serious?"

Gordon's voice was hoarse and heavily laced with shock, and if John listened closely, hints of pain and fear had crept their way into his younger brother's question.

"Completely." replied the man, his grin only seeming to grow when he noticed the reactions of the two men he had in front of him.

John stole a glance at Gordon, and was dismayed to see how his brother's appearance had deteriorated over the time they had spent in the stuffy room. Gordon's skin was almost grey, and beads of sweat could just been seen on his forehead. The wound on his arm was still slowing dripping blood, and John could see the tightness of his brother's mouth as he attempted to hide his pain.

"Now, if you just stay here like good boys for the next few minutes I can sort out exactly where you're going to deposit the bodies for me."

The man turned away, but he hadn't even left the room when Gordon's knees buckled and he fell heavily to the floor at John's feet, the noise forcing the man to spin back around to face them, gun back in his hand and levelled at the prone form of the younger Tracy on the floor.

"What's happened?" barked the man, raising the gun to John's chest.

John ignored him and crouched down, placing his fingers on Gordon's neck. The pulse was strong, although slightly faster than John would have liked, despite Gordon's unconsciousness. He then checked Gordon's other vitals before answering:

"He's fainted - probably from blood loss, no thanks to you."

"Can't you wake him up?" questioned the man, impatiently.

John failed to resist the temptation to roll his eyes.

"Hardly," he replied bluntly "maybe if you could grab a medical kit I could actually help him - he's not going to be any use to you if he's out cold, and I'm certainly not leaving him."

"You're acting as if you have a say in the matter," came the cold reply from their captor, narrowing his eyes at John's nerve.

"Surely you don't want an International Rescue operative left on their own to wake up at any time and therefore left to their own devices? You must be stupider than I thought."

The man glared at John for a moment before placing his gun on a nearby table and turning towards a bag that had been left in the corner of the room. John's eyes followed the man as he bent over the bag, his back to his hostages before flickering back to the gun on the table. Not even risking a second thought, John jumped to his feet and within three steps had clasped the cold weapon tightly in his hand.

The man spun around at the noise, a stuttered "hey!" came out of his mouth before he too collapsed onto the floor, the gun having had collided hard with his cheekbone. The noise had resonated through the room before leaving an echoing silence in its wake; John swallowed and took a step back, making sure to place the gun in his belt rather than placing it back on the table - he was not going to make the same mistake as the thug lying at his feet.

"Did you get him?"

John must've jumped about a foot in the hair as Gordon's voice broke the harsh quiet and he turned so fast to face his little brother his neck clicked painfully.

"What-? How-?" choked John, torn between relief and confusion that his brother was awake.

"What can I say? I'm a great actor." replied Gordon wearing his trademark grin as he slowly climbed to his feet.

"You were pretending?" asked John, unable to hide his shock.

"You bet," smirked his younger brother, looking far too smug for John's liking "and you say my plans never work."

"I can't believe you. You can't have known he would've left his gun there."

"You're right, but I knew it would give you an opening. I was using my initiative." said Gordon proudly.

"Well, I can't deny that it worked. Good job, Ginger." praised John, ruffling his sibling's hair and grinning at the pout that had appeared on Gordon's face.

Gordon hopped up to sit on the edge of the closest desk before starting to speak once more: "Well, what now?"

"I think we should probably answer our array of missed calls - they're probably going mad back on base."

Gordon groaned, "You're probably right, but you can take Dad. I'll call Alan."

 **Let me know what you thought - I love reading the reviews!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry this chapter's so late! Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing I can't believe all the support I've gotten!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 18:**

"Thunderbird Five receiving you, come in."

Alan waited hesitantly on the end of the line whilst waiting for the caller to reply, though there didn't seem to be anyone there. Alan was just about to hang up when a voice he definitely recognised burst through the static:

"Honestly, we have John on Earth for five minutes and look what's happened."

Alan sighed with relief as he heard his immediate older brother's voice echoing around Thunderbird Five. He was about to reply when John's voice cut through the comms:

"Hey, you do know I'm still holding the gun, Gordon."

"No need to be hostile, Johnny, I'm just saying it how it is." replied Gordon brightly, which somehow managed to change Alan's previously relieved mood to something far darker.

"Stop joking around you two! Do you even realise how worried everyone's been? No one's been able to get through to you for hours!" cut in Alan, sharply "You better have contacted Dad too; he's going mad over the situation over in New York with Virgil too, and he certainly doesn't need you two not telling him what's happening here!"

Alan heard an intake of breath on the other end of the line and instantly felt guilty for his outburst - no one had any idea what had happened to John and Gordon since their disappearance and the reason for their lack of communication was more than likely to be justified, given the circumstances they had found themselves in.

But, at the same time, Alan couldn't help but be angry. He was stuck hundreds of miles away in space with no company and all he could was worry about what was happening to his family back on Earth - how could Gordon be joking around now?

His thoughts were dragged back to reality when Gordon spoke once more:

"I'm sorry Sprout - we were just trying to lighten the mood. I know you all must've been worried when John and I didn't answer the calls but we were a little preoccupied."

"What happened?" asked Alan, his tone slightly softer after Gordon's apology.

"We saw a person in one of the rooms on the CCTV footage and so we went to go and investigate and it didn't exactly go in our favour."

"Are you both alright?" question Alan.

"A little bit bruised but otherwise in one piece. Anyway, what's this situation with Virgil?" answered Gordon, his voice sounding tired but still with a hint of the positivity from his earlier greeting. Alan guessed he was feeling relieved that him and John had gotten away from their situation from earlier.

"The Hood knew that Virgil is in New York and set up a bomb at Dad's office there. Virgil ran in to try and stop it from detonating but the bomb went off anyway and we haven't heard anything from him since. Dad's getting pretty stressed and you two falling off the radar didn't help, but at least we've got you back now."

"I'm not surprised Allie - oh, John's flapping his arms at me. I'm not sure what he wants... I'm suffering from constipation? Too much information there, Johnnyboy, and it's hardly something we can fix now..."

Alan snorted, but waited for Gordon to decipher John's message. After more bizarre suggestions from Gordon, Alan heard John bellow: "I'm putting Dad on the line!" Seconds later, there was a click and Jeff's voice joined the bickering between Alan's two older brothers.

"John! Gordon! Stop arguing and behave." interrupted Jeff, leaving a ringing silence on the comms in his wake.

Pausing, Jeff continued to speak to his sons: "Now, we need to plan what we're going to do next. I still can't get hold of Virgil, and nor can Alan, but at least we've finally gotten through to you two."

"Is Virgil's watch still online?" asked John.

"Nope - it's been offline for ages now." answered Alan "I can't get through to him and I have no idea whether he's trying to contact us. The news footage has no new information either, except there's been an explosion at Tracy Corps. On the plus side, I can say the explosion is considerably smaller than what it should've been, so Virgil definitely did something too it - it just depends on if he got out of the way in time."

Alan's voice cracked slightly at the end of his report, but he coughed quickly to cover it and no one had the heart to say anything.

Gordon broke the slightly awkward silence by posing a question to his father and younger brother: "Any more news on Scott?"

"Very little, if any, change in the situation but I'm worried about what the Hood will do next now that I haven't agreed to his terms. It hasn't helped that Scott has been a difficult guest at times. I don't know what we can do now." replied Jeff, his worry evident in his voice.

"But on a good note, I've managed to stop nearly all of the Hood's transmissions to the public. Now, any footage should only be shown to us via our watches, Tracy Island, and a few select screens in a range of capitals worldwide - New York, Berlin, London, Tokyo, Beijing etc. He's blocked the signals there - I can't interfere with it at all." said Alan.

"At least we know the English aren't going to care - they're so nonchalant." put in Gordon, brightly.

"Bit racist," replied John.

"I think you mean 'ethnic banter'," Gordon shot back.

"Stop it! We need to work out some sort of plan to get everyone out of this alive." snapped Jeff before things could escalate between the two brothers once more.

Silence fell once more as the Tracy's each tried to think of a way out of this mess. Finally, Gordon spoke once more:

"Well, since John and I are here, we can try and get Scott out. John can do that technical stuff he always does and I can try and locate Scott here. I think he's probably in the reactor room - it's the only room here where the CCTV footage is down; the only other places there's not footage for is corridors and Scott certainly doesn't look like he's along one here."

"You can't go there alone, Gordon! We came here together and look what happened! You're bleeding all over the floor and we've got an unconscious bodyguard at our feet but it took both of us to take just one guy out. It's suicide to approach the Hood alone." insisted John, firmly.

"What do you mean Gordon's bleeding? Gordon, you told me you were fine!" cried Alan.

"It's just a tiny scratch, it's nothing." replied Gordon dismissively.

John snorted, "Yeah, if you called getting shot 'nothing'."

"You got shot?!"

This time it was Jeff's turn to shout, and Alan could practically hear his older brother shrink away from his father's voice.

"It just nicked my arm," insisted Gordon, "it'll be fine and besides, I can't do the clever stuff John does and we'd all be lying if we said John could do the physical stuff I can do, even if I have had a **slight** graze from a bullet to my arm."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded John, indignantly.

"I'm just saying that perhaps we should consider building a gym on Five."

Even Jeff couldn't hide his laughter from his sons as Gordon continued to tease his older brother.

"You know Gords, I'd be happy to ensure a bullet doesn't just graze your arm next time. I'd love to have some target practise when we get home and you're going the right way about being the actual target." threatened John whilst Gordon continued to giggle in the background. Some sort of action had to be taken, decided Jeff, and so he broke off an argument once again.

"Fine," he said, his slightly raised voice silencing his sons, "Gordon, you can go look for Scott but if there's any sign of trouble you report back to John and wait for backup from the police - no buts, Gordon! You can't take the Hood on alone if you've done your arm in, even if it is just a scratch."

Gordon reluctantly agreed to his father's terms before falling silent once more. Alan was then addressed by his father:

"Right, Alan, I need you to keep tracking Virgil and seeing if you can get hold of him. I bet the Hood will contact me again soon, so I can't focus all my attention on finding Virgil. Watch the news too and call me if you see anything, okay Sprout?"

"F.A.B., Dad." answered Alan, "I'll try doing another heat signal search as well."

"Good idea. I'll let you boys get on with it but remember: any trouble or if you find anything, report it to me. Gordon, be sensible. I'll check in again with you shortly." finished Jeff, and with a click, he signed out of the transmission where he was swiftly followed by Gordon and John, and Alan was left alone to his thoughts once more.

 **Um, so nothing really happened here so sorry about that! I leave you all waiting and then I give you a filler chapter. Let me know what you thought anyway and we'll get back to the action asap!**


	19. Chapter 19

**So here's chapter 19! I'm actually running out of prepared chapters so updates might get a little less regular soon but I will definitely finish this story, have no fear! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed - especially Kirsten, Scribbles97, Pinkbeauty63, plus anyone else who regularly reviews; you guys make my day and I'm so grateful for all your amazing support!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 19:**

How people could be so stupid to take a lift in an emergency was just beyond Virgil as he wrenched back the emergency release system to allow his father's employees to escape the rapidly burning building.

The lift was nearly at the floor, but had gotten stuck during its descent - Virgil was sure that when the doors finally opened, he'd be able to see the occupants' feet and they'd have to jump down to get out of the lift, though they needed to get out as soon as possible, considering the lift could give way any second now.

Sweating with exertion and pushing through the pain from the battering his body had received in the explosion, Virgil gave the lever a final tug and the doors to the lift sprang open, revealing three pairs of feet.

"Hello?" called Virgil up to the occupants "can you hear me?"

Almost immediately, a woman's face appeared, her eyes searching for Virgil. As soon as she spotted him in the dim emergency lighting, her face morphed into an expression of complete relief.

"Oh, thank God someone's here!" she exclaimed "We've been so worried no one was ever going to help us out!"

"How many are there of you up there?" asked Virgil, trying to hide any irritation left in his voice from his initial anger of the situation.

"Three," the woman replied "but one of us got injured when the lift dropped. Michael is with him now."

Virgil sighed but kept his composure. Having one of his father's employees injured could make the exit from the lift tricky, not to mention leaving the rapidly burning building that was Tracy Corps.

"How injured?" asked Virgil nervously, dreading the answer. The woman's face disappeared as she retreated back into the lift. He heard her speaking quietly with the other occupants before she returned to Virgil.

"Michael says Askay has probably broken his right leg, and he hit his head but it seems okay - just bleeding a little." she reported.

Virgil could've laughed in relief - the injured man, Askay, certainly didn't have any life-threatening injuries. Broken legs were more of a nuisance if anything, but they were easily treated. Virgil could splint it right here if he could find the right materials. Now all Virgil had to think about was how to get all three of the employees out as fast as possible without any further injuries occurring.

"Right, we need to get you lot out of that lift pronto - I'm worried it could fall again. Could you..."

"Julie," the woman put-in, noticing Virgil's hesitation.

"Julie," continued Virgil thanking her with a nod of his head "climb down here first then help me get the other two out?"

"Sure," she said, nodding. She turned back once more and Virgil assumed she was telling the other two what was going on now. She ducked and slid her legs out through the gap so she was sitting on the floor. She hesitated slightly and Virgil realised why - he could see the drop wasn't more than five feet or so, but to her it must huge, especially with the lift shaft in her vision.

Virgil felt his International Rescue side come out once more when he realised he would likely have to encourage Julie to make the jump down. There had been many instances on rescues when a victim couldn't do a small drop down to himself or one of his brothers, even if the initial accident had been a lot worse. Virgil supposed a lift dropping however many floors could be classed as a pretty big reason for someone to potentially go into shock, so he stepped closer to the woman.

Holding his hand out for her, Virgil began to reassure Julie that the drop wasn't as big as it seemed and after a few minutes of coaxing, Julie had joined him on the floor and only her two male colleagues were left in the lift. Virgil approached the lift once more and called out to them:

"You two need to start moving closer to the door now - Julie and I will help you down."

Virgil could see who he assumed to be Michael turn and face him; he looked a little pale but otherwise in good health. It was impossible to see the remaining injured colleague, so Virgil was just hoping his injuries were exactly as Julie described them.

"I can get Askay to the doorway, but I'll need your help to get him to the floor - I'm pretty sure his leg's broken." said Michael, speaking for the first time.

"Don't worry about that," assured Virgil "let's just get both of you out of there so we can finally get out of this building."

Michael nodded in response and began to help his fallen colleague across the lift and towards the door. After what appeared to be quite a bit of hard work and groans from Askay (and mumbled apologies from Michael), the two remaining employees managed to manoeuvre themselves into a position which allowed Virgil and Julie to help them get back onto the ground. With everyone finally out of the lift, Virgil finally took the opportunity to look at Askay.

Crouching down, he did a quick scan of any injuries before rising and speaking to the group:

"You're right," said Virgil, directing his words at the two uninjured workers, "he probably has broken his leg but there's nothing we can do it about it here." Virgil ran a hand through his already messy hair before turning to speak to Askay who was leaning on Michael. "You'll be alright, but the sooner we're out the better, then the paramedics can see to you."

"Thanks," replied Askay with a grateful though pained-looking smile, "we really appreciate your help! Who knows what could've happened if you had left the building already!"

Michael nodded in agreement: "Thank God you hadn't left with everyone else - I dread to think how much worse everything could've been."

"Well, let's not think about that," replied Virgil, keen to get everyone moving "let's get out of this hell-hole and find some help."

Slowly but surely, the group made their way towards the exit of Jeff Tracy's building. Michael supported Askay as he hobbled down the corridors on one leg, Julie hurried along in front of them, clearly desperate to get out of the burning office block, and Virgil stumbled along at the rear, wincing as each step jarred his damaged knee.

Suddenly, Julie's voice broke the silence that had descended upon the group:

"How did this even happen?" she exclaimed, loudly "I mean, we all saw what happened on that horrid video but it's hardly our concern - why did the Tracy's have to bring us, the public, into their mess?"

Virgil held his tongue, and tried to ignore the conversation that was in front of him.

"It's hardly their fault," replied Michael, breathlessly as he continued to aid Askay down the corridor "they couldn't have predicted that this was going to happen. If anything, I feel bad for Jeff Tracy - imagine if this happened in your family, Julie."

Julie huffed indignantly but did not reply. The foursome continued in silence until they reached the stairs when Julie finally gave her answer:

"Well, this is hardly likely to happen in my family, Michael; we're nowhere near dysfunctional enough. And can you believe it? Jeff Tracy not even paying for one of his sons – I always knew he was heartless but this is a new low!"

Virgil was struggling to keep his retorts back and was grateful when Michael offered a response to Julie's raving instead.

"Why work for Mr. Tracy if you don't even like him?" asked Michael, patience all gone from his tired voice as he aided Askay down each step.

"Dental," replied Julie bluntly.

Virgil couldn't stop himself anymore and addressed Julie himself: "what about the things he does for charity? You don't even know him!"

Julie snorted: "why do you care? It's not like we'll ever meet him – I bet that Hood man is right and he doesn't even host those charity balls himself. As for his sons, what a waste of space they are; pretty boys, all of them."

Counting slowly to ten, Virgil caught Michael's eye and shook his head in disbelief at the woman's attitude. He appreciated Michael's support for his father, though he feared many more of the employees would share Julie's negative view of the Tracy family.

The group finished their journey in a tense silence with Julie leading them in fast strides whilst the rest of them struggled to keep up. Michael was taking more and more of Askay's weight as the exit came closer and closer; Virgil was starting to lag behind as his injuries from the explosion were making themselves more and more known.

(Mostly) limping along, the group finally stumbled across the emergency exit on the south side of the building and there was a collective sigh of relief. Flashes of light glinted through the windows of the doors and Virgil felt his heart sink – the cameras were already here and no doubt they would want to speak to someone about the bomb. Julie turned to the men, a mixture of apprehension and excitement on her face at seeing the crowd.

"Finally," she said, breathlessly "come on, let's get our voices heard!"

She burst out through the doors, with Askay and Michael following behind and a clamour of noise came rushing through the doors at Virgil as he hung back to compose himself. Taking a deep breath, he stumbled out into the dusty street.

"Virgil Tracy!" boomed a voice, and before Virgil could even look for the source, a deafening silence crashed down upon the crowd and in that moment, Virgil knew he should never have gone to that reunion last night.

 **Seems I can't stop dropping these cliffhangers, but they are so fun to do. Hope you all enjoyed, and as usual, let me know what you thought!**

 **P.S. To anyone who also reads my other fic Space Race, I really hope to have an update out in the next few days (I'm actually writing chapter 4 as I post this fic) but I'm still super sorry about the delay!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Yay chapter 20! Unfortunately, I've got no more pre-written chapters (though chapter 21 is nearly finished) so delays might start happening but I'm definitely going to finish this story so just bare with me! Thanks again to everyone who's reviewed and I hope you enjoy!**

 **baao xo**

 **Chapter 20:**

Feet pounding along the floor, Gordon ran towards the only conceivable place the Hood could be in the decrepit building: the reactor room. It made perfect sense; there were no cameras available there, and the footage that the Hood posted definitely could pass as a reactor room. Gordon just had to hope that his gut instinct was right and he would get there in time, for Scott's and International Rescue's sake.

Dodging past rubble and through doorways, Gordon slowed as he approached the corridor in which Scott had last been seen, and where the bodies of the previous employees lay. Whilst fighting the urge to retch, he looked sadly at the corpses that littered the floor; the thought that these men and women died purely so the Hood could get revenge on his family made him feel sick, and he raised a hand to cover his mouth.

Taking a few deep breaths and one final glance at the bodies, Gordon took off again towards the reactor room. Slipping and skidding a few times on rocks in the way, Gordon only just caught himself in time as he tripped on a piece of wire which was unfortunately still showering the floor with white hot sparks. Cursing fluently as some of the sparks settled on his trouser leg, Gordon straightened to look ahead of him. The door to the reactor glared at him from the other side of the corridor and for a moment, Gordon was frozen in place. He'd been looking for this place for what seemed like forever but now he was finally here, fear made itself present in Gordon's mind.

What would he find on the other side of the door? What would he face? There was no denying that the Hood frightened him; the man was clearly some sort of psychopath and whilst Gordon knew the man was incredibly dangerous, he had yet to see it in person. Gordon swallowed his fear and stepped forward towards the eerie door that was separating him from his eldest brother...

* * *

Drumming his fingers on his desk, Jeff Tracy awaited another call from the Hood which he was sure was coming, though it didn't make the waiting any easier. This madman had his eldest son captive, had blown up his third-born and had one of his lackeys shoot his second youngest – all in the space of one day; it had to be some sort of record for the family.

The most frustrating thing of all was that Jeff could do nothing to aid his sons; the Hood clearly wouldn't listen to reason and Jeff truly believed that even if he gave the Hood what he wanted, the maniac wouldn't let his sons go. He didn't want to admit it, but Jeff Tracy had absolutely no idea how he was going to fix this disaster.

Deciding he ought to just do something, Jeff put in a call to his youngest.

"Reading you, Dad – any news?" answer Alan promptly.

"Nothing on my end, Allie. How about you?"

"Well, you might want to turn on the television..." Alan replied carefully "it's not bad but..." his voice faded out towards the end, and Jeff turned his focus from his son to the television in his office.

Grabbing the remote and turning it on, Jeff felt a wave of relief crash over him. Visible in the flashing lights of the cameras and the crowd of people was a very dusty and battered looking Virgil. He was trying to shield his face from the cameras, the sudden sunlight seemingly hurting his eyes though Jeff knew better; his son was trying to hide his identity though it was clearly too late. A sudden interviewer's voice cut through the noise and Jeff turned all his attention onto what they had to say.

"Virgil Tracy!" cried the interviewer, a small, ratty looking man who was shoving his way to the front of the crowd "are you okay? How is everything inside? Did you try and stop the bomb alone?"

Jeff could see his middle son pale further in the flashing lights as he tried to step away from the limelight, though the interviewer was having none of it. Grabbing Virgil's arm, he dragged him forward into the spotlight once again and thrust the microphone into his face.

"How are you, Virgil?" he persisted.

"Erm, fine, I guess." stammered Virgil, clearly uncomfortable.

"What exactly happened in there? Was everyone okay?"

"Just the bomb" Virgil replied bluntly, "it was dealt with."

"And what of your father, Virgil? What does he have to say about it? Has he contacted you? What do you think about this situation with your brother and the man with a vendetta against your family? Is it justified?"

Jeff could see his son trying to reign in his temper before replying curtly:

"I don't think I'm the right person to be answering your questions," he said, "you ought to contact our family's publicist."

"But what's your view on things? You just had a dangerous encounter with this man who's attacking your family, surely you must have an opinion of some sort!" the interviewer insisted.

"Nothing that you need to hear." replied Virgil curtly.

Jeff watched as his son managed to push his way out of the spotlight and leave the area, closely followed by the small group of people he'd apparently left the building with. Grabbing the remote, Jeff switched the television off and sighed before turning to his youngest once again.

"Now what?" asked Alan now he had his father's attention.

"I'm not sure there's anything we can do now, Allie, but wait." Jeff replied tiredly and reaching for his mug of coffee.

* * *

The heat from the reactor room was making Scott drowsy; the warmth almost felt comfortable and was a distraction from the horror within the four walls. The Hood had left him alone once again, and Scott was grateful for that. Everything hurt, and whilst he hated to admit it, he wasn't sure he could cope with another one of the Hood's conversations.

Shifting in his seat as much as the restraints would allow, his attention was drawn to what he assumed was the entrance. There was a shadow hovering just behind the reinforced glass and Scott squinted, trying to see it more clearly. It was most likely another guard but this figure seemed a little too small to be one of the Hood's henchmen. Leaning forward slightly, Scott peered at the door and then almost jumped from the chair (well, if he could've done) when what seemed to be Gordon's head popped up at the window.

Blinking and shaking his head slightly, Scott continued to stare in disbelief at what he was seeing. He couldn't believe Gordon was here of all places – he couldn't even fathom why he'd be here in the first place. Suddenly, it hit him; Gordon was going to attempt a rescue and Scott had to bite back a groan. Gordon couldn't be so stupid to think he could do this alone, could he?

Glancing towards the room where the Hood resided, Scott looked back to the door to see Gordon wave and mouth something to him before looking somewhere to Scott's right and disappearing from view. Scott followed his brother's previous gaze to see that the door to the Hood was now opening and it was only a matter of time until the Hood himself entered.

Barely seconds later, the Hood strode forward into the room and stood before Scott and spoke:

"So, Scott, your father will not give in to my demands, it seems so now I only have one choice to show him that I'm being one hundred percent serious about this whole plan."

"And what might that be?" asked Scott hoarsely.

"By revealing to the world who you really are, of course!" replied the Hood cheerily and raising his arms in a mock celebration, "Now, smile for the camera, Scotty, the whole entire world is about to meet International Rescue!"

 **Tell me what you think! I'm loving all the amazing reviews from everyone!**


	21. Chapter 21

**So, I'm back?! I'm really really sorry about the huge delay in posting this chapter! University has been insane, I got writer's block, and then just couldn't find the time or motivation to sit down and finish this chapter! I'm definitely going to finish this fic, no fear, but I do hope this really has been worth the wait!**

 **baao xo**

 **Disclaimer: I still definitely own nothing...**

 **Chapter 21:**

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief as he finally managed to escape from the cluster of paparazzi outside of his father's office. Pushing his way through the crowd and into a more or less empty space, he turned to see his small group (minus Askay who was now thankfully with the paramedics) closely behind him. He couldn't say he was surprised to see the looks of shock plastered across Julie's and Michael's faces.

"So..." began Michael slowly.

"So..." replied Virgil tiredly, eyes cast downwards.

"You're one of the Tracy boys, then?"

"The middle one" answered Virgil "though there seemed no point to say anything earlier. I didn't want to really draw attention to it, you know?"

Michael nodded his head in agreement, whereas Julie just looked horrified. Considering her distaste at the family earlier, Virgil was hardly surprised.

"I'm, er, really sorry..." stuttered Julie, eyes downcast "I had no idea."

"Don't worry about it," replied Virgil, dismissively, "I've heard worse."

"But I-" tried Julie again.

Virgil shook his head and answered: "Seriously, it doesn't matter. I'm not offended. But you guys should go get cleaned up; I should probably call my dad."

Julie nodded and departed, though Michael hesitated.

"Seriously, thank you." he said, sincerely "You saved our lives and I can't ever repay you. I hope you find your brother."

Virgil nodded, and with a quick wave of his hand, Michael was gone as well. Finally alone, Virgil let a sigh of relief escape him as he ran his hands over his face, a poor attempt at wiping away all the dust and grime that had gathered there. Today was easily turning into the worst day of his life.

* * *

As silently as he'd come, Gordon slunk away from the door once he saw the creep who was holding his brother hostage enter the room. Ducking around a corner and into an adjacent room, Gordon decided it'd be best to put in a quick call to John to let him know about the situation.

Keeping his voice as low as possible, Gordon whispered:

"Come in, John."

"Reading you, Gordon, what's-"

"Shh!" whispered Gordon, hurriedly "I'm near the reactor room and no one knows I'm here yet."

"Sorry, sorry," replied John "what's the situation there?"

Gordon sighed, "Well, I found Scott, but it's going to be tricky to get him out. The Hood is either in the reactor room with him, or in a side room. I don't know how I'm supposed to slip inside."

"You've got to wait it out, Gords, don't do anything rash."

"How am I supposed to just wait, John? Our brother is in there with some madman – I can't just wait!" whispered Gordon, angrily.

"You can't just barge in. You've got to have some sort of plan or wait for an opening, and since neither you nor I have a plan, you've got to wait for an opening, okay?" retorted John.

"Fine, fine..." muttered Gordon, not at all happy about the situation at hand, "I'll wait it out but if anything else happens to Scotty, I'm going in."

Gordon heard John sigh at the other end of the line but Gordon knew he couldn't be swayed and he was confident John was well aware of that too.

"Just don't be stupid Gords," answered John after a pause "Scott's already in there with the Hood; we don't need you in the same situation too."

"FAB Johnny," replied Gordon before cutting the link between him and his elder brother.

Running a hand over his face in exasperation, Gordon turned back around to face the door to the reactor. Patience had never been his strong point, and he'll be damned if he'll let anything else happen to his eldest brother.

* * *

It was official: Jeff Tracy had been banned from the kitchen and had the coffee machine confiscated. After consuming dangerous amounts of coffee, Kyrano had clearly had enough and locked the machine away in his own quarters, including the smaller one Jeff had hidden away in his office months ago in case this very situation did occur.

Without the seemingly stress-relieving liquid, Jeff was more than struggling. His hair was tussled and scruffy more so than Virgil's could be if he had been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night – it seems that both Scott and Alan had caught the habit of running their hands through their hair from someone. He'd even taken to furious pacing in front of his desk in a weak attempt to curb his frustration and worry about his sons and had had to restrain himself from snapping at Alan when he'd tried half-heartedly to lighten the mood by suggesting that Jeff would wear a hole in the floor.

Jeff's guilt had increased further when a dejected Alan had signed himself off and retreated back into the isolation of 'Five when Jeff had seemed less than impressed by Alan's light heartedness. Finally sitting back in his office chair, Jeff took a moment to review the situation he had found his family in – he was aware that worrying and fretting from Tracy Island wasn't going to help anyone, and he knew he had to be pragmatic and rational about the situation. Making a mental note to apologise to Alan, Jeff considered what options he had left.

John was still in the Control Room of the station, monitoring the situation from a secure and hidden point – this gave the boys some leverage, as John could take on what was usually Scott's role in rescues and coordinate Gordon safely through the wreck and towards their elder brother.

Gordon was, as far as Jeff was aware, approaching the Hood and Scott, though he prayed that his second youngest wouldn't be reckless or desperate enough to attempt a rescue without appropriate back up. He knew that Gordon had be injured earlier, and despite his protests and insistences, Jeff feared that his son wouldn't consider his new limitations and act without thinking for his own safety. Gordon and Scott were incredibly similar in this respect and it never went well for either of them.

Virgil was safe for now, Jeff concluded. He'd escaped the building and disarmed the bomb, saving countless people in the process. Whilst it would be difficult now for Virgil to avoid the press, Jeff would rather that Virgil had to face a barrage of nosy journalists than another bomb any day. Virgil was due to be checking in any moment now and the Tracy patriarch hoped it was purely good news at this point in time. Brains had been coordinating with the emergency services on behalf of International Rescue, and there had been no deaths reported thus far at the site, though it seemed today, nothing was free from the Hood's destructive revenge.

Alan was brooding on Thunderbird Five, and was the only son who had remained physically unharmed during this ordeal. Jeff couldn't help but thank his lucky stars that his baby had been safely tucked away in space during this mess. However, he had been worrying for his youngest despite this – Alan seemed to be drowning in guilt and blamed himself for accepting the call to the nuclear power station, despite the fact that Alan had just been doing his job. Jeff knew he had to contact Alan soon and reassure him that there was nothing he could've done to prevent this mess before he spiralled further.

Finally, Jeff came to think of his eldest. Scott could sometimes be so protective of his brothers that he didn't think of the implications of his actions, and whilst none of the boys had been aware of the danger lurking just around the corner, Jeff now carried the benefit of hindsight, and now it was clear to see that Scott should've waited for backup before investigating – the entire building had been screaming warning signs at all of them from the beginning. Jeff obviously didn't blame his eldest son for his actions in exploring the location, but he regretted that he didn't look into everything earlier. Perhaps then he could've stopped this; perhaps then he wouldn't have his son in a life-or-death hostage situation that was threatening to explode across the entire globe.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the self-pitying and guilt inducing thoughts, Jeff stood abruptly. Now wasn't the time to mope in his office about what disaster had now befallen his family, but to do something about it without anyone else getting hurt. Turning towards the portraits of his five boys, Jeff downed the final dregs of the instant coffee he had managed to hide from Kyrano and put in a call to Virgil. It was time to finish this.

 **Well, not a lot happened there; it was just kind of a filler/recap chapter. Fortunately, we'll be back to the action soon! And I'll hopefully be posting it soon, if StarKid McFly and I can talk through what's going to happen next by the end of the month! I've still got like 2 months of summer holiday left, so I hope to update more regularly again (don't hold me to that though).**

 **P.S. in case any of you who read my other fic, Space Race, were hoping for an update, I hope to be posting chapter 5 there very soon so keep an eye out!**


	22. Chapter 22

**So, I know it's been a very long time since I last updated, and I am really sorry! Life is just in the way a lot of the time, and I honestly wasn't entirely sure where I was going with this fic. I've been super busy with university, and I've been playing a concerning amount of the Elder Scrolls Online. I received a review this morning about this fic which was really kind and I realised how much I've neglected this story and I'm way too far in to abandon it now. So thank you, QuestRunner, for motivating me again to churn this chapter out! It's longer than the others, so I hope this makes up for the appalling wait - I really hope you all enjoy this chapter, and I'm going to work on chapter 23 in the coming days!**

 **baao**

 **Chapter 22:**

Exhausted and wanting to go home more than ever, Virgil once again found himself at a New York hospital through no fault of his own (well, the original visit may be debatable in its cause, but Virgil continued to deny it nonetheless). He had quickly spoken to his father after his escape from the bustling crowd outside the crumbling remains of the Tracy Corporations HQ but had promptly been ushered into an awaiting ambulance despite his protests.

Whether Virgil was in the same hospital room as he had been before, he had no idea – they all looked the same with their allegedly calming colours splattering the walls and hard furniture. He scowled at the cheap, cheery painting of sunflowers that hung on the opposite wall to the bed as he swung his one remaining good leg to and fro whilst he waited for the doctors to return with the results of more pointless tests. He was aware that the explosion had most certainly done more harm than good to his still aching body from the night before, but after everything that had happened today, the middle Tracy wanted nothing more than to return home to his family. But, Virgil was glad there was, at least, no mirror in the room; he most certainly did not need to see how much of a child he looked at the current moment in time as he sulked to pass the time.

After what felt like hours of waiting, Virgil's thoughts were interrupted by a tired and rather stern looking doctor barging into his quaint little room. She came to an abrupt stop in front of Virgil, who ceased his childlike behaviour under her gaze.

"So, Mr Tracy," she began, looking through her notes, "my name is Dr. Eastwell and I've been overseeing your care here since the incident at your father's office. How are you feeling?"

"Er, fine, thanks" he replied, a little startled by the sudden intrusion.

"Only fine?"

Her clipped British accent only served to make the statement even more accusatory, and Dr. Eastwell proceeded to peer over her glasses in expectance of a more thorough response from the slightly baffled looking Tracy.

"I mean, yes, better than before" Virgil stumbled in haste to not sound quite so stupid as he just had done – the last thing he needed was to be kept in the hospital further because he answered a question insufficiently.

"Hmm…"

Returning to her notes with a slight furrow in her brow, Dr. Eastwell took to curling her cropped blonde hair with her pen as she studied the results in her hand.

"You were in here just earlier today with a twisted knee and sprained wrist is that correct?"

Virgil nodded.

"And how did that happen?"

Virgil hesitated before answering carefully.

"I fell."

"You fell?" repeated the doctor, glancing back over at him.

"Yes, just a small accident."

She flicked over a page, the sound echoing in the awkward silence of the room.

"This states that alcohol was involved – would this have affected any of the injuries you later sustained in the explosion?"

"No, no, not at all!" Virgil responded, hurriedly "and I wouldn't actually say that I was injured in the attack, more lightly bruised" he continued.

The doctor sighed.

"I wouldn't consider losing consciousness and turning that twisted knee into another sprain to join your collection a light bruising, Mr Tracy."

Virgil flushed as the doctor turned to retrieve something from the corridor.

"It'd be best if you used these for the next week or so" she said, presenting a horrified looking Virgil with a pair of metal crutches, "and support your damaged knee with a brace for another week after that."

Virgil stared at the brace Dr. Eastwell was now holding out to him. In fairness, Virgil had barely acknowledged the fact that his knee had been steadily growing in pain since leaving the bomb site, and once he had arrived at the hospital, he had been given some rather lovely painkillers that had not only suppressed the ache in his body, but had been the most wonderful hangover cure since his didn't seem to plan on leaving any time soon.

"Please don't sit there gawking, Mr Tracy, it'll be better for you if I can place the brace on you now and you can be on your way. We can't have you hogging up rooms – there's been an explosion, you know."

Feeling indignant, Virgil prepared himself to retort but caught the eye of the now smirking doctor.

"Don't worry – I'm not actually going to throw you out, you did pay for this, after all. However, I think you'd be happier if you got to head home now, don't you?"

He breathed a sigh of relief, glad that someone was finally on his side and letting him go home.

"Going home would be the best thing in the world right now" he agreed, allowing the doctor to attach the clunky looking brace to his right knee.

In no time at all, the contraption was in place and Virgil gave it a little wiggle to test his mobility.

"Stop moving so much," Dr. Eastwell scolded, slapping the frame lightly. "Now, is it comfortable?"

"As comfortable as it'll ever be."

"That's good enough for me," came the reply, as she straightened to her full height.

Trying desperately to avoid sounding too much like a child in this moment, Virgil (maturely) whined: "can I go home now?"

"I trust you can make your own travel arrangements?" she asked, looking over her glasses once again. Virgil figured it was a habit of hers.

Virgil mock saluted in response, and he was sure he saw a brief smile grace the doctor's faced before it was concealed with a sigh and she handed him a list of things he should do in order to help his knee heal.

"So, that's everything," she concluded after quickly going over the main points in the information booklet. "You were lucky to escape without any concussion, Mr Tracy, but you are now free to go as long as you promise to rest that knee."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," he grinned, mirroring the said motion in mid-air.

"I'll go discharge you then and I hope, Mr Tracy,"

Virgil glanced up from his knee to see the doctor hesitating at the door.

"I hope that things work out for your family. I can't imagine what this must be like for you, I'm very sorry."

He nodded solemnly in response; in the rush of everything, Virgil had forgotten why he had even been in the Tracy Corp. Headquarters to begin with. He silently berated himself as Dr. Eastwell nodded back, and then vanished behind the door.

"I guess it's time to call the taxi then…" he muttered to himself, lifting his wrist.

* * *

"International Rescue, how can we be of assistance?"

Alan responded to the call monotonously, not paying attention to the address of the caller.

"Alan? It's me, Virgil."

Perking up immediately, Alan rushed to the controls in order to see his brother.

"Virg!" he exclaimed, "How are you?"

"Sore, tired, frustrated," his brother answered, clearly attempting to conceal any disgruntlement in his voice.

Alan chuckled; he was glad to hear Virgil's voice again, and even more so to hear his brother's usual grumpiness despite everything that had happened today.

"You looking for a ride home?"

"If there's one available, I'd love one," Virgil responded, his voice perking up at the prospect of returning to Tracy Island.

Alan pondered for a moment – Gordon, John, and Scott were all still stuck in Minnesota and there was no way their father was in any state to fly over to New York to collect his middle son from the city.

"There's a chance that Tin-tin would be prepared to fly over to get you; I think she'd enjoy a break from the house-"

"Only if it's not too much trouble, though" Virgil interrupted hastily, "I can always book another night at a hotel."

Alan laughed, "Dad wouldn't allow that now. He'd probably fly over immediately if I asked him, but I don't think that's the best idea. I'll call Tin-tin and ask her to come get you. Can't promise she won't fuss, though."

"I'll do anything to go home, Al. I'm sick of New York, I'm sick of the press, and I'm absolutely sick of the Hood."

"Well, I can get you away from two out of three," said Alan, "but the fussing you'll get on the island might not be better than the cameras."

"Anything will be better than this," replied Virgil solemnly, "just let me know where and when I can meet Tin-tin."

"FAB, Vig."

Static filled the space station as Virgil ended the call and Alan was left on his own once more.

* * *

Scott had had time to think whilst sitting in the sweltering reactor room. He'd thought about the mission, he'd thought about Virgil in New York and wondered how he was faring, he'd thought about how much Alan must be brooding up on Five, and he'd thought about how furious John and Gordon must be roaming the halls of this forsaken power station. John always had a general distaste for Minnesota and other more northern states; he much preferred the rich culture of Paris, or the bustling plazas of Rome over an isolated and cold state such as this. Gordon just hated being cold, so he'd probably like to be in the humid temperature that Scott had found himself in.

More than anything though, Scott had thought about how much he just hated the Hood's voice. Everything about it just reminded Scott of a classic 1960s bad-guy; if his situation wasn't so dire he would've laughed at the absurdity of it all. Instead, he was having to sit here and listen to the man drone on and on about world domination. Really, if he'd wanted to rid the world of International Rescue and then conquer it as if he was from a superhero film then he would've done more and talked less, Scott blearily pondered.

The Hood was standing in front of his camera, waiting for his message to be broadcast across the globe whilst Scott was positioned to the left-hand side of it, he assumed for Hood's dramatic big reveal of one of the pilots of the mysterious Thunderbirds. The Hood's voice was a muffled hum – it felt like he was underwater and his struggle to draw a full breath seemed to only confirm a feeling of submersion. His left ear was currently only allowing him to hear a high-pitched ringing, so Scott took some comfort in that he only had to listen to his captor with his right.

Dragging his eyes from the slightly mucky floor, Scott dared a glance to the door where Gordon had been hovering. His younger brother had disappeared for now, but it was unlikely that he'd stay that way, knowing the prankster. The handle of the door was shaking ever so slightly, and Scott desperately hoped that Gordon was not doing what he thought he was as the Hood's voice increased in volume, indicating that the broadcast was beginning, and forcing Scott's attention back to the centre of the room to witness his own undoing.

* * *

"Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, to the big reveal!"

The Hood greeted the camera with a sadistic smile and outstretched his arms as if he were a showman performing to thousands of adoring fans.

"I can assure you it's all been worth the wait, and I hope you're all as excited as I am. The world has changed dramatically in my lifetime. Like those who have lived before me, life has lots of ups and downs, but we are fortunate enough to live in an era filled with technological advancements and budding organisations which only serve altruistic purposes. However, due to the increase of the horrifying global warming, many natural disasters have occurred in recent years which frequently affect the most vulnerable in our societies. I too have fallen victim to one of these, but I was not fortunate enough to receive the full care and protection that I was promised as a poor man overseas…"

* * *

Gordon could hear the Hood start to address his audience and tried to hasten his attack on the door's lock. He decided he was lucky that his enemy enjoyed the sound of his own voice as it gave him extra precious minutes to pick the lock with a small piece he'd found lying around the site.

He'd had to work silently and slowly before, fearing being caught, but now the occupants of the room had their attention focussed on the video feed, Gordon could be a little more reckless.

Suddenly, the lock gave and Gordon reacted quickly to stop the door from opening on its own. He peered cautiously through the dusty window in the reactor but he didn't think he'd been noticed. The Hood was too busy wallowing in self-pity and generating a reaction from the public to notice Gordon; his henchmen were largely focussed on ensuring the stream was working and Scott, well, Gordon wasn't entirely sure what he was concentrating on, but he decided that the elder of the two probably wouldn't mind if Gordon interrupted.

Through the foggy glass, Gordon watched as the Hood slowly began to approach his brother, and he knew he had just mere minutes to act.

* * *

Scott could feel the attention in the room shifting to him, and he felt his heart pound faster in his aching chest.

The Hood was taking slow steps towards him as he continued his tirade against the Tracy family and Scott couldn't help but twist his hands in his restraints as one last fruitless attempt to escape.

The Hood was closer now, and he was reaching towards Scott to hold him in place.

* * *

"So, people of the world,"

Gordon heard the Hood; he was about the reveal the secrets of International Rescue to the world, the ones that he and his family had tried to desperately to protect, the ones that they would die for in order to preserve their anonymity.

"…I introduce to you…"

Gordon knew this was his only chance. He allowed himself one breath of courage, and then threw himself into the room.

* * *

It felt like he was in a dream. The world drifted by in slow-motion, the images floating lazily past his eyes as chaos erupted.

The Hood turned, furious at the interruption.

Gordon burst into the room with the ferocity of wild animal.

Their eyes locked, and it was a stand-off between two fires; the Hood with his blazing, cold eyes, and Gordon, burning with rage and hurt.

The henchmen lunged, charging towards Gordon with bloodlust in their eyes.

One second to react, no mistakes - it was like any other rescue mission.

Gordon raised a gun (and god knows where he got that from), and took a shaky aim at his enemies, his body veering slightly to the left.

One chance, there was no more time.

Scott summoned the last of his energy and swung his leg. It connected, and a body fell with a grunt, and then another.

His chair began to fall, tipping so slowly through the air he could be falling through water.

A bang echoed in the room, ripping through his hazy consciousness to wake him with fierce abruptness. The world went white as he collided with the unforgiving floor and the ringing in his ears threatened to deafen him as his nerves exploded.

And then, as quickly as it started, everything was silent, and all was black.

 **Please, let me know what you all thought! It's been hard to get back into it so I don't know if my writing is very good in this chapter but I always love reviews! Also, if any of you happen to play ESO in the European server, honestly PM me because I need some people to run around with (my friends are now too low a level for me and I just ruin the game for them :( )**

 **And really, my biggest thanks to everyone who reviews and I love all of you for reading!**


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